The courting of Alfred Jones
by Willona
Summary: Alfred Jones is the most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic. This is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim', but Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred, past FrUk. Sorry this is on hiatus.
1. Prologue

**Warning: **Yaoi, Slash, boyxboy, UsxUk, ArthurxAlfred. Rated M for future chapters and language.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, don't ask.

**Summary:** Alfred Jones, star quarterback of Hetalia Academy. The most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic, which is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim'. But Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred.

**Author's notes:** Au highschool fics where the jock ends up with the nerd/alternative dude have been somewhat of a guilty pleasure of mine, so I decided to make one myself. This is a bit short, but then again that's why it's a prologue. Enjoy ^^.

_Prologue:_

_Where we meet the main characters in a very unbecoming way._

~O~O~O~

A fist connected with Arthur's jaw, sending him flying into one of the nearby desks. It hurt like hell. He hadn't thought the idiot had it in him, so he was a bit surprised when he tasted the iron flavour of his own blood on his lips. He smirked as he stood up again, wiping the small line of crimson away with his thumb.

"Is that all you've got? You punch like a lass!" He said provokingly. Oh how he loved to anger the American, even if he risked his own safety while doing it.

"Why you piece of shit!" Yelled Alfred as he tried to land an other punch.

However Arthur saw this one coming, so he quickly moved out of the way. This angered the American even more. Arthur laughed as he mentally pictured steam blowing out of the idiot's ears in rage, like some childish cartoon character. And so their little dance continued with Alfred throwing punches and Arthur gracefully avoiding them as good as he could. Some sick sadistic part of Arthur knew that liked it this way.

He liked to see Mr. Perfect himself come undone because of him. He liked the fire he saw in Alfred's eyes, the fact that he could get under his skin like this, but mostly he liked this because the git deserved it.

Alfred F. Jones, star quarterback of Hetalia Academy, one of the most prestigious high schools in the world. Son of Benjamin Jones media tycoon and Mellissa Jones actress/model extraordinaire. He was muscular, blond, tanned and had big blue eyes that made him look like an innocent all American boy. Girls loved him and boys admired him.

He had prestige, he had looks, he had money and he had a sodding hero-complex to booth, making him and every single one of his pathetic groupies believe that he was god incarnated. He was the most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic, which was why Arthur was one of his new favourite 'victims'.

What many people didn't know about their beloved Alfred Jones was that the boy could show a very cruel and dark side of him when he wanted to. He was the Academy's biggest bully, which was funny in a way, because he always looked like a cheerful and optimistic chap. So not many people took notice in the fact that Alfred regularly beat kids up for being gay.

Which was the reason they were currently rolling on the ground grunting, biting and lashing out at each other.

For you see, Arthur Kirkland was nothing like the idiotic quarterback. First of all he was British and a punker. His family had disowned him a long time ago, so he lived alone in a shabby single bedroom apartment. His hair was dyed in an almost fluorescent mint colour that matched his eyes pretty well, if he said so himself. His build wasn't particularly buff, but also not lanky. Lean, that's how he would've described himself. Girls glared at him in disgust and guys generally avoided him.

He had no titles and just enough money to get by. He liked to study and read and was what one would call a typical loner. Which apparently made Alfred think of him as easy 'prey'. After all, few friends meant little backup and surely someone that was a head smaller than the jock could not possibly be much of a challenge, right? Wrong!

Arthur had no intentions of grovelling in the dust for 'his royal greatness' and he was going to make this very clear to Alfred. The git would remember not to mess with him, or anyone else for that matter, ever again!

They had been going on for about two minutes before the principal arrived. She was a thin strict looking woman, always dressed in most expensive clothes. Her brown hair tied up into a bun. She glared at them through her black rimmed glasses before letting out a voice that one would hardly expect from such an elegant looking woman.

"Kirkland! Jones! My office! RIGHT NOW!"

Back then both boys barely knew how much influence this single act of violence would have on the rest of their lives.

~O~O~O~

**Author's notes:** So did you like it? Did you hate it? Please review and give me your opinion ^^.


	2. Chapter 01

**Warning:**Violence!Yaoi, Slash, boyxboy, UsxUk, ArthurxAlfred. Rated M for future chapters and language.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, don't ask.

**Summary:** Alfred Jones, star quarterback of Hetalia Academy. The most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic, which is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim'. But Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred.

**Author's notes:** I noticed that I have the tendency to make little jumps in time between chapters in order to set new moods, I hope this isn't distracting while reading the story. Anyway, I was really inspired and I had a lot of time so I decided to do an other chapter. I was really surprised to get so many reviews! Thank you guys so much! Really it was awesome to see your opinions! You all deserve a yummy hetalia cookie (in the shape of a character you like :3) I think! *Throws cookies at reviewers*

Just to answer some quick questions: Yes Arthur is gay in this Au. Also there will be a lot of violence in the beginning of Arthur's and Alfred's relationship. They're both struggling with some strange emotions and like most angry teenaged men they decide to act on these emotion through violence. However don't worry, none of them will get hurt too bad (they won't end up in the hospital or something, unless you guys want them to...). Lol and now I really have talked for to long, enjoy the first chapter ^^.

_Chapter 01:_

_In which Mr. Perfect unconsciously spills a secret._

~O~O~O~

The underside of the desk was covered in a rainbow of colours, varying from pastel pink to electric blue. Arthur grimaced as he noticed that some of the gum hadn't properly dried yet. He slowly lifted up his spatula and poked one particularly pink specimen. It stuck to the spatula like superglue and Arthur could feel his stomach turn as he imagined just where the thing had been before ending up underneath this desk.

Suddenly he heard a girlish scream behind him. Arthur quickly got up from underneath the desk, not wanting to spend an other second in that stuffy space. He looked up just in time to see Alfred neurotically trying to get a nasty looking piece of moss green gum off his cheek. It fell to the ground with a squelching sound.

Arthur stared at him in wonder for about three seconds before bursting out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. He couldn't help himself, seeing the big tough jock squeal like a little girl was a marvellous sight to behold. It didn't even matter anymore that he had just gotten stuck in detention for the next few weeks with the idiotic homophobe, this was totally worth it!

Alfred glared at him over the top of his glasses as he rubbed the remainder of the sticky substance on his cheek with the back of his hand.

"Fucking fag" he whispered in a low moping voice "I should have finished you when I had the chance."

This made the Brit stop laughing, his face immediately turned into a scowl. The bloody git did not just say what Arthur thought he did, did he? He saw the corners of Alfred's lips turn upwards into a smirk.

"What did you just say?" Arthur said in a threatening voice, the cockney accent he had learned to mask so well started to shine through. The amused and yet malicious twinkle in Alfred's eyes angered him.

"You heard me," Alfred said in a coy voice, challenging Arthur to make a move, to finish what they had started just a few hours ago "or are you to queer to fight someone as heroic and awesome as me?"

That did the trick. 'Heroic? Awesome? My ass!' Arthur thought as he balled his hands into fists in anticipation. If a fight was what the git wanted, he would get it and Arthur would make sure that when the dust cleared the bloody bastard had swallowed his pride. He was already looking forward to fucking that pretty boy face up nice and proper.

Arthur, despite his short and somewhat skinny appearance, had a fair amount of fighting experience. More often than not he had been assaulted on the street, either for his choice of clothes or his choice of partners. That's what happens when you live in the bad part of town, where the ground was cheap and the food even cheaper. So beating up some highschool bully would be a piece of cake.

"Oh, you're on" Arthur hissed through his teeth as he got ready to strike.

In the first few minutes they where a bit skittish, landing some punches, figuring out how the other would react, how they would move. Arthur was quick on his feet, constantly dodging, looking for openings and striking with an astounding accuracy. Alfred on the other hand was more of an offensive type, landing hard punches and lunching forward with great ferocity.

However after a while they got down to business. Both boys had enough playing safe, they attacked each other head on. Landing on the floor with a painful grunt Arthur kicked and scratched with all his might. He tried to push Alfred off him, but the American was just to strong. Alfred's eyes had a wild look in them as he panted like some kind of animal. He raised his fist and punched Arthur hard enough to bruise.

Arthur kept squirming underneath him, trying to find a way out, an opening, something to turn the tables. He'd be damned if he let the git have his way with him. If he was going down, he would go down fighting.

He stopped Alfred's next punch by grabbing his arm, blunt nails biting into the jock's wrist hard enough to draw blood. Alfred hissed, his eyes burned with rage. Arthur smirked in victory, although it was short lived. Alfred's other hand grabbed Arthur's green hair and pulled at it harshly, making said Brit bare his teeth in pain.

Now it was Alfred's time to grin as the punker clawed at the hand that was grabbing his hair so tightly, trying to get the quarterback to let go. Tears where forming at the corners of Arthur's eyes, because god damn it hurt. He wanted to bloody git to let go, he wanted to get out from underneath the crushing weight of Alfred's muscles. Abandoning all reason, he did the one thing he thought would shock the blond so much that he would let go of Arthur's hair.

With lightning speed the Brit locked their lips together. It worked, Alfred's grip on his hair immediately loosened, but not enough for the punker to roll over without pulling out a large portion of his strands.

Arthur mentally cursed himself as he started working his lips against the American forcefully. He cupped the blonde's chin in his hand to pull him in closer and proceeded to give him the most mind shattering kiss he could manage.

He could feel the jock's eyes widen in realisation and Arthur knew that it was now or never. He threw in all his weight to roll the two of them over so that Arthur was now on top. The Brit groaned as he felt some if his hairs being pulled out despite his previous efforts. Alfred groaned as well, but… not in pain…

'Holy Mary mother of god!' Arthur thought as he felt Alfred's hand tangle itself into his hair once again, pulling Arthur flush into him. The punker looked up into the jock's eyes and what he saw there send shivers coursing through every fibre of his body. The look in Alfred's eyes was that of a starved man looking at a fancy five course meal. He was desperate.

Arthur groaned in surprise as he felt Alfred's lips move against his in equal passion. Arthur's heart beat in his throat as he realised just what they were doing right now. He was kissing Alfred Jones, the biggest homophobe in Hetalia Academy. How was this possible?

Wasn't Alfred supposed to hate this, hate him? Wasn't he supposed to punch him in the balls and glare at him in disgust? Wasn't he supposed to run away screaming and never come back? That's what every logical person would have done. So why was it that they where still lying here on the ground, kissing each other like their lives depended on it?

And then it hit Arthur like a brick wall. He had always thought that Alfred was overcompensating for something. The boy was just a bit to loud, just a bit to obnoxious, just a bit to desperate to get a girlfriend and just a bit too keen to prove to everyone that he, the hero Alfred Jones, was definitely not gay.

But that was a lie, wasn't it? It was all just a façade, because the reaction Alfred had to his kiss was not that of a homophobic straight man. No… it was the reaction of a gay, or at least bi, man who was desperately tying to hide the fact that he wanted Arthur to shag his brains in.

Arthur smirked into the kiss as he started to softly slide his tongue over the other's lips. Such a clever lie Alfred was selling, not only to his followers, but to himself as well. The jock probably didn't even know how gay he actually was, or he just didn't want to know. Either way Arthur was not buying it. How fun it would be to find the hidden cracks in that mask of his and pick it apart piece by piece.

He laughed a bit as he felt the American gasp underneath him. He quickly slid his tongue into the other's hot mouth. Alfred groans became louder and louder as the Brit slid their slick muscles together. The green haired boy's body hummed in pleasure as he showed Alfred every trick in his book in order to blow the other boy's mind.

'I bet those bimbo cheerleaders you're always going out with can't kiss like this' Arthur mentally replied to one of Alfred's particularly hard moans. God how he loved it when Mr. Perfect came undone because of him.

However he broke the kiss when he felt the blond trust his hips up into his, that was just going a bit to fast for Arthur's taste.

"Easy cowboy" Arthur whispered in the quarterback's ear as he held his hips down with his hands. The Brit was just about to stick his tongue out to lick the shell of Alfred's ear when he was forcefully shoved onto the ground again.

Alfred glared at him, but his eyes had lost the hard edge they had just a few minutes ago. The blonde's face was bright red and his breath came out in short little puffs.

"Don't fuck with me!" Alfred hissed lowly as his grip on Arthurs shoulders became extra painful. And then his hands were gone. Arthur watched silently as Alfred ran out of the door, leaving him alone in the classroom with two spatula's and desks full of gum.

~O~O~O~

**Author's notes:**Ok so just to make things clear, Alfred is not suddenly going to quit being a homophobe after this chapter. I think that would make things a bit too unrealistic and… it would spoil all the fun I have in store for you guys. I like the manipulative sides of both Arthur and Alfred and I think they don't get enough credit. So that's what most of their future relationship is going to be like: Manipulative.

Also I wanted to ask you guys who you think should top. They both have pretty seme personalities and even though I'm not going to begin the smex scenes until some of the later chapters I would still love to get your opinion (I'm secretly voting for seme!Arthur ;3).


	3. Chapter 02

**Warning:**Injuries!Yaoi, Slash, boyxboy, mentions of past relationships that are not UsxUk or vise versa, language.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, don't ask.

**Summary:** Alfred Jones, star quarterback of Hetalia Academy. The most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic, which is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim'. But Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred.

**Author's notes:**The first thing I have to say is that I could have never imagined getting so much reviews! I checked my story stats on Friday and I couldn't believe what I saw, I literally went O0O for like fifteen minutes. Still I have read every single one of your wonderful reviews, thank you so much for writing them and giving your opinion. I really like to hear your ideas for this story, because sometimes they're way better than mine ^^.

And this time they were, for most of you wanted the relationship between Arthur and Alfred to be 50/50 and I am pleased to say that I can and will work with that (more fun possibilities for me to write smexy stuff ^^). Anyway, some people asked if other character are going to be featured in this story and I am proud to say that yes they are, quite a lot. Although I will be introducing them gradually.

In the next few chapters I will be once again building up the tension, a little bit more slowly this time. So there's not a lot of tension in this chapter, but there will be more in the next. I just like working it into the story slowly, getting the characters more and more frustrated over time (because I'm sadistic that way ;p). Anyway sorry once again for talking so much, but I felt like I needed to give you some extra info so that you know where the story's going. Please enjoy this chapter ^^.

_Chapter 02:_

_In which old friends visit unexpectedly._

~O~O~O~

The key creaked as he turned it in the rusty lock. He quickly opened the door, wanting to get out of the cold as fast as he could. Although his apartment was only slightly warmer than the air outside, it was enough for Arthur to stop shaking. Even though it was already March it still was freezing cold outside. Arthur knew that spring would begin later than usual this year.

He sighed as he immediately locked the door behind him. It was a habit he had picked up over the years. If you didn't lock your door properly people could easily come in and steal your stuff. Al though most guys could probably ram down the door if they wanted to, it was pretty old and it's hinges were in bad condition. Arthur made a mental note to replace it before the end of the month.

He hung up his bag as quickly as possible, glad to get the weight of his bruised shoulders. His muscles ached as he shrugged off his jacked. 'All this for a stupid little kiss' Arthur thought as he hung his coat neatly on a nearby hook.

When one lives alone in such a tiny space it was better to immediately put things away in the right place when you stopped using them. Or else the whole apartment would be clustered and Arthur would barely have space to breathe.

He pulled of his scarf as well, folded it and lay it on the plank above his coat and bag. It was his favourite scarf, green and white with a silver snake elegantly stitched on the bottom. His brothers had given it to him on a dark Christmas morning a very long time ago. Of course it hadn't been meant as a thoughtful gesture.

Arthur always had to play the bad guy, while they ran around being hero's. So it was no surprise to him when he opened his package to see that they had chosen to buy him a Slytherin scarf. God how he had hated not being the hero back then, he was so embarrassed when they made him wear that scarf for the first time.

Still, a lot had happened since then. They had all changed, going their separate ways. Now Arthur wore the scarf with pride, showing it of like one would do with a battle scar. He walked out of the hallway into the slightly bigger space of his living room.

It was painted in a broken white colour that had turned beige around the edges of the ceiling because of water damage. 'Still have to fix that leak' Arthur thought as he put it on his mental to do list.

There was a small couch and a television, a table that was just big enough for three people to dine at stood in the corner. The wall on the left was filled with planks that held a great variety of books, both old and new. The wall on the right was almost empty except for a few small windows and a picture frame that was made out of old oak wood.

Arthur walked towards the picture frame and stood before it, observing the blowup of the photo he had taken so many year ago. He always did this when he had gotten into a nasty fight, looking at the picture calmed his nerves and hardened his soul against hurtful words.

It was a picture of a brick wall with graffiti on it. He had taken it one day when he was walking towards Piccadilly circus. It always reminded him of London, of home. He read the simple and somewhat wobbly words of the graffiti. _Homophobia is gay_ it read. It was a simple sentence, but the impact it had on Arthur was tremendous. Even now he still read it in awe.

The message those few words held felt a bit ironic in the context of what Arthur had been through this afternoon. He laughed a bit as he suddenly realised how true the sentence was, but his chuckle sounded hollow even to his own ears.

Arthur wondered if he would ever have the guts to write something like that. As the last sunbeams hit the glass of the picture frame he suddenly saw his own reflection. His eyes widened as he saw the giant bruise that was forming on the side of his cheek. It was turning an angry purple colour.

Arthur cursed under his breath as he quickly walked towards the bathroom. It was tiny like the rest of his apartment, but it held all the essentials. A toilet, a shower, a sink and a cupboard with various medical supplies. Arthur scrambled through the cupboard to find something to ease the bruising. He finally found a little tube of salve, it would have to do.

He squeezed the tube and spread the ointment on his fingers. He was in the process of applying the yellowish substance evenly on his cheek when there was a knock on the door. Arthur promptly ignored it and continued what he was doing. There was an other knock on the door, a bit harder this time, followed by a concerned voice.

"Arthur mon cher, are you there?"

Arthur growled as he immediately recognized the French accent. 'Oh god, please, not now' he prayed as the knocking continued.

"…Rosbif?" the person on the other side of the door asked hesitatingly.

Arthur sighed as he finally decided to take pity on the Frenchman.

"Don't call me that!" he yelled as he put an other layer of salve on the bruising. He could feel it soothing his pain more and more as he continued to delicately rubbed it in. Damn that Alfred and his blasted right hook.

"Why aren't you opening zhe door mon cher?" the Frenchman replied in a somewhat relieved voice.

"I'm busy" Arthur hissed lowly, trying not to let his temper get to him. This was getting rather annoying. Leave it to the French to visit people in the wrong place at the wrong time. He didn't want to let Frog see him in this condition.

"Busy?" he heard Francis say in surprise "with what?"

Was it just Arthur or was the frog's voice getting…closer?

"I…I'm" Arthur stumbled over his words trying to find a reasonable excuse not to let the source of his annoyance into his apartment "I'm dying my hair!"

"No you're not" came the Frenchman's breathy reply.

Arthur let out a loud scream in shock as he clasped his hand over his ear. Though he would later deny ever having done so, he blushed as he locked eyes with the Frenchman. The damn frog was smirking with delight.

"How the bloody hell did you get in here?" Arthur asked, looking around for some kind of portal or hole in the wall through which the Frenchman might've entered the apartment, but he found nothing. Then the frog smirked some more and held up a small metal object, twirling it around his finger in glee.

"I still 'ave your key cher rosbif" he said laughing out loud as Arthur tried to retrieve his apartment key, without much success. Arthur glared at him, the fire burning in his eyes was intensified by the bruising on his cheek.

"So who did it thiz time?" Francis said nonchalantly as he walked over to the couch to lay down on it, stretching his slender body out for the whole world to see. The brit took a few minutes to figure out what the Frenchman was talking about, but then he grimaced. Damn that French bastard and his cockiness. Arthur leaned on the couch's armrest trying to find a way to save whatever shred of dignity he had left. However in the end he just gave in, he was tired of fighting.

"Alfred Jones…" he admitted, swallowing his pride "He's a junior and he's very…" Arthur trailed off as he remembered the events of this afternoon. What exactly was Alfred? Homophobic? Gay? Bi? In denial? Steaming hot?

'Wait… do I think he's attractive?' Arthur thought to himself. His eyebrows knitted together as he mulled over that question. He flinched as a finger suddenly poked his forehead.

"You shouldn't frown mon cher, we don't want you turning into a grumpy looking old man now do we?" Francis said teasingly. He smiled a bit as he pulled his finger away quickly, because with the way Arthur looked at him the Frenchman feared he might just loose his limps.

"Le célèbre Alfred Jones frappe à nouveau" Francis said sighing careful not to sit to close to Arthur when he was in one of those moods. Arthur growled again, annoyed at the fact that the Frenchman chose to speak a language he could barely understand. However the brit didn't say anything. The way Francis had muttered those words made his heart clench, his voice had held so much sadness.

"Do you know him?" Arthur asked, reluctant to speak the boy's name, maybe in fear of summoning him here. It would not be the first time Arthur had summoned someone like that. He shivered at the thought.

"Yes" Francis answered, no more, no less. However that one word said it all. Francis knew Alfred and he knew him well, maybe even better than Arthur knew him. How was this possible? Francis had graduated from Hetalia Academy almost two years ago. He was now in college studying to be a chef, among other things.

He wanted to know, but the uncharacteristic look the Frenchman's gave him was so sad and bitter, the brit didn't dare to press the matter even further. So he changed the subject, to get rid of the odd tension in the room.

"S-so why are you here you damn frog? I was busy you know" Arthur said, flushing brightly because of the stutter. The question seemed to break whatever had it's hold on Francis as the blond sprung up. Imaginary rose petals twirled around him as he flicked his golden locks out of his eyes in a dramatic gesture.

"Oh~ la~ la~ 'ow could I forget? Arthur mon cher…" He said as he began moving towards the brit. The frog's steps where confident with a little bit of glee in it, this could only mean one thing: Rape.

Arthur did his best to get away, but the Frenchman had already pressed him up into the wall. Arthur watched as Francis' face got closer and closer to his. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable to happen and…

"Arthur…" the Frenchman's breath was like a ghost's touch on his lips. Arthur shivered, cursing the fact that even after everything that had happened the Frenchman still had this effect on him.

"I want you to meet mon nouvel amant."

Wait… amant? Where had Arthur heard that word before… The brit opened his eyes in shock as he stared into the Frenchman's eyes searching for answers.

"A… lover?" Arthur asked, a bit unsure if he had translated the word correctly "you have… a new lover? And… y-you want me to meet them?"

"Oui" The Frenchman said in delight as he grinned lovingly at Arthur. This caught Arthur of guard. Sure the Frenchman had plenty of lovers before, but none of them had ever been introduced to Arthur. 'He must be really serious this time' Arthur though as he suddenly saw the frog in a whole new light.

Still, he felt a bit awkward about meeting the frog's new lover. After all he and Francis… It had been a year, but Arthur could still remember…

He hung his head as unwanted emotions began to break down his mental barriers and flood his heart. Could he do this? Was he willing to cooperate in this, to cope with this?

"I don't think that would be a very wise decision" Arthur said softly as he turned away from Francis. The wall was suddenly so much more interesting. Arthur poked the flaking white paint that was crumbling of the plaster. 'I have to repaint it' Arthur thought as he also wrote that down on his mental to do list. He could feel the Frenchman's eyes burning into his back. How those eyes had tortured him, so many times.

"I think it is…" He heard Francis reply, he relaxed a bit as he felt the Frenchman's hands rub the painful muscles of his shoulders "Arthur… I think it's time for you to stop torturing yourself like this…"

Arthur let out a shaky breath as he slowly began to pull himself back together once again. He turned around to look into Francis' pleading blue eyes before nodding.

"Alright" the brit said, smiling awkwardly as grabbed his coat and scarf, he walked toward the door and pulled it open "Allons-y!"

Arthur waited for the Frenchman to walk out of the door and lead the way to wherever the hell they were going, but the frog just stood there smiling brightly at him.

"What?" Arthur asked in irritation. Why was the frog staring at him like that?

"Oh nothing" The Frenchman said as he proceeded to put on his own coat "It's just funny that zhe only français you know comes from watching way to much Doctor Who."

"Oh belt up!" the brit growled once again as he pulled the Frenchman out of his apartment and into the hallway. However he secretly smiled as he locked the door, his evening had just gotten a whole lot better.

~O~O~O~

**Author's notes:**Ok so that was a pretty long chapter, I don't know if every chapter will be this long, it depends on how much I want to say in a chapter. Anyway I like referring to British television shows and books while writing about Arthur. Still I'm not British so you guys will have to help me a bit when I've said something wrong. Also, I know a bit of French, but I don't know if I translated these sentences correctly. Please tell me if I made a mistake.

There is a lot of history between Francis and Arthur and it's one of the reasons Arthur will be very frustrated in later chapters. However don't you worry, this story will end with UsxUk (and vise versa ^^).

**Translation of the French words/sentences:**

Mon cher = My darling.

Le célèbre Alfred Jones frappe à nouveau = The famous Alfred Jones struck again.

Mon nouvel amant = My new lover.

Allons-y! = Let's go!

Français = French.


	4. Chapter 03

**Warning: **People jerking off! Homophobia!Yaoi, Slash, boyxboy, UsxUk, mentions of Hetero relationships, language.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, don't ask.

**Summary:** Alfred Jones, star quarterback of Hetalia Academy. The most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic, which is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim'. But Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred.

**Author's notes: **I could have sworn that I planned to make this chapter longer than it currently is, but for some reason I kept feeling that all the extra info I had planned to give about Alfred would jeopardise his part as the mysterious bully. I tried to make it up to you guys by focussing a lot of my time and effort to work on the content of this chapter, I hope you guys enjoy it ^^.

This chapter is written from Alfred's point of view, because I wanted to flesh out his character. I'm not trying to justify Alfred's actions, but I still wanted to create at least a tiny bit of sympathy for him. Otherwise the upcoming UsxUk parts would be very awkward for me to write -.-'.

I also wanted to let you guys know that I'm currently looking for someone to Beta this story. I'm dyslectic and English is not my first language so it's difficult for me to take out all the spelling and grammar mistakes by myself. I want to thank everyone who pointed out my mistakes, I tried to pay more attention to them in this chapter. Furthermore I want to give a HUGE thanks to all the people who reviewed, you guys are awesome! Enjoy the next chapter ^^.

_Chapter 03:_

_In which denial is sometimes better than acceptance._

~O~O~O~

Alfred let his forehead rest against the cool bathroom tiles. His head had been spinning this whole afternoon making him feel sick and on edge. These four walls of glass and tiles functioned like a membrane between him and the real world, filtering out everything that put pressure on him. It left him feeling naked, literally as well as emotionally. In this little cage he could finally let go, even if it was just for a while.

Alfred led out a sigh as he felt the tense muscles in his lower back relax under the warm water of the shower. His thoughts slowly started to reorganise themselves as his headache disappeared.

What had happened this afternoon had been a mistake and it was clear as hell to Alfred that it had not been his fault to begin with. He blamed the Frenchman for his fight with the Brit. After all, if the blond had just kept his mouth shut Alfred wouldn't have been so angry and upset. He could clearly remember the words the blond man had whispered to him before Alfred had walked out of the door.

"You really should be more honest with yourself Jones."

The man's words had reverberated though his head all morning. When he bumped into the punk Alfred had been so frustrated he could barely think straight. Picking fights with the green haired boy had been a piece of cake. Alfred tensed as images from this afternoon's fight started flashing through his head.

Arthur Kirkland… that boy was strong, not only physically, but mentally as well. The punk was true to himself, he didn't care what other people thought about him. That determination he had seen in the Englishman's eyes still filled Alfred with jealousy. Why could someone like that be strong in ways the American couldn't even dream of being?

It just wasn't fair. Alfred had tried so hard to fit the mould, to be everyone's hero. That's what his parents had always taught him. It was what the world expected him to be. It angered him to see people being so open about their sexualities. Why was it ok for them to be so carefree about who they dated? Who gave them the privilege to be accepted for who they were while Alfred had to try so hard? It pissed him off!

He hated people like that, because they had things he couldn't have and did things he couldn't do, but at the same time he feared them as well. That dangerous combination of fear and loathing often pushed him over the edge. Feelings he never wanted to have would cloud his judgment and the only way he knew how to get rid of those emotions was through violence.

Alfred had loved the feeling of punching Arthur's yaw and pulling on his hair. The punk's growls and whimpers had given him urges he could barely contain. And then the feeling of those lips on his…

Alfred shivered as his own tongue darted out to lick his lips in order to relive those sensations. What he had felt back then… could it be that he really was…

No! He slammed his fist against the white porcelain tiles. Alfred Fucking Jones was not a fucking queer! Everything had been going so well these last few months. He barely had any urges left, but that kiss had changed everything! That such a simple touch could so easily break through his barriers was something Alfred could barely comprehend. All the emotions he had worked so hard to lock away, deep into the far corners of his heart, had started flooding out.

Alfred's breathing sped up as he looked down to see that his cock was already half hard. 'Shit!' he thought as he banged his head against the wall. He couldn't leave it like this, that would just end in even more frustration on his part. 'Ok, ok, think of breasts, think of breasts, think of breasts…'

Alfred silently continued this mantra in his mind as he slowly started toying with the head of his erection. 'Kay now imagine someone incredibly sexy…' Alfred mentally instructed himself 'How about that one girl on the cheerleading squat, the one with the big jugs. What was her name again? Kat-something-something?'

It didn't mater that he couldn't remember her name, all that mattered was that he would be jerking off to the image of a female body, like a normal boy. He tried to imagine her all wet and naked lying on the bathroom floor, but instead of a well equipped cheerleader his brain conjured up an entirely different image. The person his inner eye saw didn't have big boobs, instead they where incredibly flat chested. In fact the person wasn't a girl at all!

Alfred gasped when he felt his cock twitch at the thought of those smothering green eyes ogling every part of his exposed body. Unruly green hair was spread over the floor, swaying in the water like seaweed. Alfred didn't know why that weird imagery turned him on so much, maybe it was because that hair belonged to someone.

Someone he had to admit had been stuck in his head ever since this afternoon. His heart hammered in his chest as the body before him started to take shape. He could now clearly see his face, those thick eyebrows knit together in ecstasy. He imagined what that lean body would look like naked, all supple and flexible, like a cat.

Well defined stomach muscles presented themselves to him. He felt the strange urge to lick that rosy skin there. He wondered what his tongue would feel like on that body. Would the boy's skin be all salty and wet as his muscles quivered underneath Alfred's slick organ?

Alfred groaned as he wrapped his hand fully around his now leaking member. In the back of his mind he heard a voice say that this wasn't right, he shouldn't be doing this while thinking of the punker, but he ignored it in favour of the pleasure he was experiencing.

He thought of what that boy's lips could have done to him if they had been kissing an entirely different part of his body. He saw his imaginary Arthur stick his tongue out and lick the head of his cock in one swift move. He repeated that thought over and over again like a broken record as he used his thumb imitate that movement.

'God this is sick!' Alfred thought as he moaned wantonly. Why was this happening to him? He could feel himself getting closer and closer to completion. A warm sensation burned in his stomach as hot as lava, it spread through his body like wildfire. His knees shook in anticipation as his brain conjured up one last image.

Arthur on his hands and knees in front of him, his lips glistening with Alfred's pre-cum as he whispered to him in a low rough voice: "Easy cowboy."

That was all Alfred needed to come undone. He groaned loudly, not caring who heard him as his legs gave out underneath him. He sat there on the shower floor for a good five minutes before he finally got back to his senses. Realisation settled in his stomach like a block of cement as the water washed away the evidence of his euphoria.

He glared at his cock in disgust, as if it was the organ's fault that Alfred had these sickening desires. In the end he decided to put this incident on his long list of 'stuff that didn't happen.' He slowly got out of the shower, the muscles in his legs still felt like jello. He dressed in a shameful silence, before moving into the hallway.

He walked passed Matthew's room and noticed that door was open. 'That's weird,' Alfred thought 'Matt rarely leaves his door unlocked.' He pulled the door fully open and looked around the room. Matthew was nowhere in sight. Alfred noticed in shock that the window was opened wide.

He ran towards the window and stuck his head out. The curtains swayed in front of his eyes for a bit, before he pushed them out of the way with a frustrated growl. A cluster of vines that grew next to the window rustled a bit. Alfred's eyes followed the vines downwards before his gaze met the eyes of a very bewildered Matthew.

His twin squeaked and quickly climbed down the rest of the vines, trying to get away from Alfred. 'Oh no you don't!' Alfred thought as he quickly made the decision to follow his brother, wherever the boy might be sneaking of to. He wasn't going to stay here and take the blame for his sibling's actions. Alfred started to climb down the vines as well. His hair was still wet from the shower, but his strange desires were already forgotten.

~O~O~O~

**Author's notes: **So Alfred is struggling with issues of his own. I wonder what would happen if my two walking social disasters finally get together? I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas for this story, I always take suggestions seriously and try to make your ideas fit into the story.

Since a lot of people reacted really well to my question about who should top, I wanted to ask you guys an other question: Who would you like Francis to end up with in the end? I'm not promising anything, but I would love to read your opinions about this ^^.


	5. Chapter 04

**Warning:**Homophobia! Violence! Under aged drinking! (well depending on what country you're from),Yaoi, Slash, boyxboy, UsxUk, language… Francis…

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, don't ask.

**Summary:** Alfred Jones, star quarterback of Hetalia Academy. The most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic, which is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim'. But Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred.

**Author's notes:**I am sooo, soooooo sorry for not updating for so long. Really I didn't plan it like this at all, but suddenly my Uni bombarded me with homework and tests and after that my computer crashed. I hope you guys can forgive me.

I haven't had the time to find a beta reader yet, but I'm going to now. I'm hoping some of your offers still stand.

This chapter's been the most difficult to write so far. It's been quite a challenge to get out of Alfred's character and find my way into Arthur's character once again, but for what it's worth I'm quite pleased with the way it turned out.

Also I decided to let Arthur have alcohol in this chapter even though he's not the legal drinking age in America, because he's kind of a rebel and I like him that way. I hope you'll enjoy it.

_Chapter 04:_

_In which the living try to replace the dead._

~O~O~O~

The sweet smell of his Bacardi Cola filled his nostrils, overwhelming his senses. He wondered how Francis had gotten the barman so far as to serve alcohol to a minor, but he was grateful for it. He feared that he would not get through the evening without this liquid confidence booster. He looked at the man sitting next to him through his eyelashes.

Francis' wavy golden locks fell in front of greyish blue eyes. Arthur could still remember what it was like, to have those eyes looking at him with hungry desire. He had never told Francis how much he had liked that look. Arthur secretly liked Francis' flamboyant behaviour, even though he would always pretend it annoyed him.

Francis was so different from him, he was a free spirit, while Arthur was constricted by his own uptight behaviour. Arthur grimaced as he felt a sickening feeling of regret fill his gut, making his chest feel to tight. He struggled to breathe as he picked up his glass to take an other gulp of rum.

This was not good, he should get over this, he should've been over this a long time ago! Still he couldn't deny how much he regretted that it was over between him and Francis. All that time he had put into their relationship. He had thought that he finally had it, a love worth living for, but that love had left quietly one Monday morning without even saying a word. It had taken Arthur months to find Francis and when he finally did he found him with her.

Arthur now realised how stupid he had been and how young. Even when Francis was with Arthur he had occasionally whispered her name in his sleep. Arthur had been nothing more than a replacement, something with connections to her that Francis could keep close to him. Arthur frowned a bit at his own train of thoughts. He was acting despicably childish, being jealous of a dead woman. It had been two years and Arthur still felt this way… why?

Arthur was tracing the rim of his glass with his finger in thought when the door opened and a young bloke stepped in. The bloke was a little out of breath, like he had been running away from something. It became clear that the boy was very nervous as he looked around the pub, for he kept fidgeting. He had wavy golden hair, just a few shades lighter than Francis' and one single curl hung in front of his face. Blue eyes caught Arthur's own as the boy slowly started to move towards them. It was all very suspicious.

Arthur eyed the boy up and down as the chap stopped in front of him and Francis. He was wearing some jeans and sneakers with a red hoodie that had a maple leaf on the front. The most interesting thing about the boy's appearance had to be the stuffed polar bear that he was carrying with him. Arthur didn't know what he should think about that.

It took Francis a couple of awkward seconds to notice the quiet boy standing next to him, but when he did he sprung up from his seat and hugged him tightly to his chest.

"Ah~ Mathieu! You're here!" He said as he kissed the boy on his cheek, making the bloke blush like mad. Arthur just sat there and stared for a while as reality dawned on him. He looked at Francis who was busy pressing just a bit to many kisses on the chap's cheek to be called civil. Then he looked at the boy again who was politely trying to get Francis to refrain from raping him.

Something about the boy bothered him and it was not the teddy polar bear whose beady black eyes seemed to follow every single move Arthur made. The boy reminded Arthur of her. He didn't know why, their personalities seemed to be as far apart as possible, but there was something Arthur couldn't quite put his finger on that was distinctly like her. Upon realising this Arthur's gut felt like it had been tied into a knot.

When Francis was finally done molesting the chap he turned to Arthur smiling like he had just won a million bucks.

"Cher Rosbif, thiz is Mathieu." Arthur's eyebrow visibly twitched as Francis pulled the bloke even closer to his side, like he was trying to bloody absorb him! "Mathieu thiz is mon ami Arthur."

Mathieu or Mathew, or whatever he was called nervously put out a hand for Arthur to shake.

"Pleased to meet you…" He said in a small voice.

Arthur just looked at him for a few seconds, before he realised that he was being incredibly rude. He grabbed the bloke's hand and shook it firmly and with fake confidence.

"Likewise." Arthur said as he looked at Francis like he had gone mad. 'You have got to be kidding me Francis.' Arthur thought as he held back a sigh. Didn't the Frenchman learn from their past relationship or was he just plain stupid? 'You can't replace her you bloody frog! No one can…'

As they all sat down on their designated seats Arthur couldn't help but keep glaring at Francis for picking such an innocent boy to warm his bed. The kid was fragile and moreover Arthur was certain Matthew would be nothing more than a replacement for her in Francis' eyes. Arthur had never held any illusions of Francis being capable of having a stable relationship, but… it had been nice to hope. Still, the least he could do is be polite.

"So…" Arthur began "how long have you two been together?"

This sentence gave him a reaction he wasn't quite expecting. First of all Matthew who had just taking his first sip of something that looked suspiciously like a glass of maple syrup nearly choked. After a frantic Francis got the boy to breathe normally again Matthew began rambling hysterically, his voice just loud enough to make his vaguely understandable.

Apparently Francis was tutoring Matthew on French pronunciation, because Matthew's French teacher couldn't understand Quebecoise. Arthur didn't quite see the difference between these two languages, but he nodded understandingly anyway. He looked at Francis for further explanation, but when he saw the frog's face he couldn't even whisper a word.

His charming aura fell a bit and Arthur could clearly see that Francis was forcing himself to keep on smiling like nothing had happened. The smaller boy next to him had stopped ranting and was now looking at Arthur and Francis with confusion.

The Frenchman gave Arthur a strict look that told the Brit not to let the shy boy know what Francis' true intentions where. The Brit felt obligated to oblige, he had caused Francis enough pain in the past. The frog deserved happiness… so why did this make the knot in Arthur's stomach tighten until he could barely breathe? All of these emotions really made his head hurt.

Just when Arthur thought it might be better to order something strongly alcoholic the door was pushed open with a tremendous force. In the doorway stood a half-naked and out of breath Alfred Jones. Arthur looked at him in shock for a moment and wondered if the alcohol was finally getting to him. The Brit's eyes involuntarily roamed over Alfred's nicely toned chest and Arthur could feel himself blushing at the sight. Was he hallucinating? He looked over at Francis and Matthew, but they looked just as dumbfounded.

Alfred scanned the pub like the madman he most certainly was, before his glare settled on the three boys sitting at the bar.

"YOU!" he screamed as he pointed his finger towards a stunned Francis "I told you to stay away from my brother!"

Arthur watched in a slight daze as the psychopath nearly jumped over the tables to get to Francis as fast as was humanly possible. At this Francis' protective side took over as he promptly stood in front of Mathew who looked both embarrassed and extremely guilty.

'Wait a minute…' Arthur thought as his eyes widened in shock 'Matthew is that git's brother? How is that possible? They're so different?' His hands flew up into his spinach coloured hair as he tried to calmly review what implications this might have for his future life.

While Arthur was still freaking out over the realisation that bloody Alfred Jones actually had this soft-spoken boy as his brother the fight was already escalating before him.

"Mathieu can 'ang out with whoever he wantz, you 'ave no say in thiz! Imbécile!" Francis spat as he held the now quivering Canadian as close as possible, just to piss Alfred off.

"I have a say in this if he's hanging out with someone like you! And learn how to speak American you French faggot!" Alfred screamed, his cheeks red in what Arthur presumed would be rage, his eyes nearly busting out of their sockets. At this the Frenchman just huffed and glared at the American while mumbling something about big buffoons and un vache.

"Matt!" Alfred screamed ignoring the Frenchman's rambling "I told you not to hang out with this dude!"

Now that Arthur looked at him in this light Alfred did seem like your typical overprotective and slightly psychotic ass of a brother. God that really took him back to his childhood. This morning he had thought that that his life could hardly get more fucked up and now it found a way to screw him over even harder than before. Thinking of this made the Englishman's feelings progress from shocked to pissed very quickly.

Arthur looked at the three boys who where currently making a scene in ,what he would call, a true British pub… for American standards. This had to stop if Arthur ever wanted to show his face here again, and with the rum they served he was bloody not going to let that opportunity pass!

Just then the fight became physical and Arthur could see in Alfred's eyes that he was about to punch Francis. 'Over my death body!' Arthur thought as he jumped in between Francis and Alfred. The git's fist hit him harder than ever before, the pain was made worse by the bruise that was already there.

Silence filled the pub as everyone stared at the green haired teen who stumbled back a few steps, almost ramming into Francis. Even Alfred was shocked as he only now seemed to notice that Arthur had in fact been there all along. Alfred opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sight of the Brit who slowly licked a trickle of blood from his lips. Arthur turned to look at the American, his green eyes dark and ferocious. The predatory look made Alfred visibly shiver.

"Jones…" Arthur finally said, his voice deep and rough "Outside now."

~O~O~O~

**Author's notes:**So I wonder who figured out who 'she' is by now ^^. Francis has a lot of history with lovers, we will see and meet a lot of them in the future. Also just because he currently has somewhat of a crush on Matt doesn't mean that they'll end up together, like Arthur said, the guy's a free spirit.


	6. Chapter 05

**Warning:**Homophobia! Violence! Under aged drinking! (depending on what country you're from), orgasms, brick walls, Yaoi, Slash, boyxboy, UsxUk, language… Francis…

**Disclaimer: **Don't own, don't ask.

**Summary: **Alfred Jones, star quarterback of Hetalia Academy. The most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic, which is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim'. But Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred.  
**  
Author's notes:**Hey guys, so my first year at Uni is done so I have more free time to write. I've been waiting to write this chapter for so long, but in the end it ended up somewhat different than I had originally though it would be. Still I really like this chapter, it's so emotional! And also the brick wall is my favourite character here XD.

Anyway I am really excited to say that I've received my first fanart ever! It's really cool and you can find it at (just take out the spaces): fav . me / d3i9ias . Be sure to check it out ^^.

I also want to give a big thank you to Cifer10, for agreeing to beta this. You rock!

_Chapter 05:_

_In which brick walls are very important__._

~O~O~O~

His fist connected with Alfred's jaw harder than he had expected. The boy stumbled backwards. Arthur growled in annoyed rage, the git hadn't even put up a fight. Arthur had the distinct feeling that the American was mocking him by doing this so half-heartedly. Still it felt good to vent his frustration on someone, he could almost understand why the quarterback did it so often... almost. He looked at the American. Alfred's nose was bleeding, as was his lip. However the look in the git's eyes was anything but defeat. He was glaring at Arthur as if he was saying 'So you got what you wanted now, are you happy? Did it feel good?'

It didn't. It felt anything but good. Arthur realised that he had beaten the boy more than the kid had ever beaten him up and yet it didn't seem to bother Alfred. In fact the American looked like he wanted Arthur to beat him up some more, just for the hell of it. It made Arthur feel empty and hollow inside. This wasn't what he wanted when he said that Alfred had to pay for what he had done. He was just drunk and stupid and heartbroken.

'How did I end up here?' Arthur wondered with an eerie kind of clarity he only got when completely pissed 'In an abandoned parking lot with a homophobic gay guy whose face I just fucked up while fighting to protect my delusional ex-lover who may or may not be currently shagging said homophobic gay guy's brother...'

Arthur ran a hand through his hair in frustration as he once again studied the quarterback. The boy was shivering and Arthur realised that the guy still didn't have anything to cover his naked torso. Arthur sighed as he felt his inner worrywart take over - maybe those insults of him being a mother hen had more truth in then than he had initially thought. He shrugged out of his jacked and threw it at Alfred who caught it in surprise.

"You're going to catch a cold" Arthur stated after receiving a blank stare from the American.

Alfred mumbled something like 'I can take care of myself', but he put on the jacket anyway. Arthur figured that he must have been freezing. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two, both boys didn't know what to do now that the fight was over. Yet for some strange reason neither of them wanted to leave.

"So..." Alfred said eventually as he stared at his shoes "You know Francis huh? Figures, all you fags grouping together."

To his own surprise Arthur heard himself laughing, a hollow bitter laugh that erupted deep from within his chest. The American looked up in shock, he had obviously not expected that reaction to his insult.

"Yeah…" Arthur said still chuckling a bit "You could say that I know Francis pretty well…"

God he wanted to cry, but the tears didn't come. Instead he couldn't help but find his own pathetic situation kind of humorous. 'Stuck between Mr. Perfect who wants my head on a plate and my cheating ex-boyfriend.' Arthur thought sarcastically 'What a wonderful place to be.'

"You're all the same…" His voice wavered a bit as he whispered those words. Arthur couldn't care less about how he sounded at the moment. He was being overwhelmed by all these emotions. All the sadness and sorrow of the past year came bubbling up from deep, deep within him and Arthur felt that he could barely stay upright.

"What was that?" Alfred said nervously, he didn't know how to react to the way the Brit was acting. This made a smirk appear on Arthur's face. As the Brit looked into Alfred's eyes, he didn't see the idiotic quarterback, he saw everything he hated in the men he had been with. The men who always left him, the men who always treated him badly. What had he ever done to deserve this?

He had to admit that he hadn't taken that hit for Francis' sake back in the bar. He had just wanted to get out of there, he had wanted an outlet for his emotions and then the homophobic jock had presented himself to him so nicely. In the back of his head, Arthur wished he had drank more, then maybe he would've been too drunk to execute his newly formed plan. Arthur knew he was going to regret this in the morning, but right now he just wanted to feel good. This thought made Arthur's smirk grow bigger as he walked towards Alfred and backed him up against the wall.

The height difference bothered Arthur a bit so he grabbed Alfred's hair. The American struggled, but it was no use. When Arthur really wanted something he was going to bloody get it and right now he wanted nothing more than to lick the blood off Alfred's lips very, very slowly.

"W..what are you doing?" he heard Alfred say as he felt the jock's hands on his shoulders. The git was trying to push him away, but Arthur wouldn't have that, not anymore.

"What does it look like?" His voice sounded raw even to his own ears as he looked up into Alfred's eyes with burning desire. Blue… He had never realised that the git's eyes were so incredibly blue. 'Just like Francis'…' Arthur thought bitterly.

"You really are a lot alike." the Brit said, placing his hands on Alfred's well defined chest. Arthur memorised every patch of skin with his hands with drunken glee. It had been so long since he had touched an other man like this. The Brit's touches made Alfred's breath hitch as he visibly struggled to keep his cool. Alfred squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away from the punk.

"I…" Alfred began, his voice filled with underlying emotions "I don't know what you're talking about."

Arthur pressed his lips into a thin line - he didn't like being rejected, especially when he was drunk. Then Alfred's words registered in his brain making the punk growl in frustration. Was it really so hard to figure out? He pressed the American further against the wall until they were chest to chest. Arthur watched the idiot who still had his face turned away from him in fear. This made the Brit frown. 'I don't want this…' Arthur thought eventually 'I don't want him to be afraid of me, of this… I want him to enjoy it, this…me.'

However being gentle was not something that came naturally to Arthur and it was even harder when he was intoxicated. Still, it was worth a shot, so Arthur inched even closer and stuck out his tongue. He slowly licked Alfred's earlobe. He could feel the American's nostrils flare as Alfred breathed in deeply and trembled slightly. Arthur had always loved this reaction.

"You and Francis have more in common than you think." Arthur whispered into the idiot's ear "You both like to taunt me, humiliate me… fuck me."

This time Alfred did shove him away, a look of desperation on his face. Arthur felt himself growing quite fond of that look.

"I am nothing like you fags!" Alfred screamed while pointing an accusing finger at the Englishman. Arthur just laughed at this as he slid his hands around Alfred's wrists and pinned him effectively to the wall once again. He looked Alfred straight in the eye before stating the obvious.

"You are exactly like us."

Alfred didn't respond this time. Arthur could see the American's eyes search his face for something the punk couldn't put his finger on. Eventually the quarterback's eyes rested on his lips. He observed with a weird kind of fascination as Alfred hesitatingly wet his lips. This made Arthur smile. 'Now he's just asking for it.'

"That's what I thought." Arthur muttered right before closing the gap between them. Alfred's lips were cold against his and a little chapped. However Arthur had to admit that this kiss was way better than the one Alfred and he had shared in the abandoned classroom. The quarterback was actually really skilled when he wanted to be, or maybe Arthur just sucked because he was pissed. Either way the kiss made him weak in the knees as a burning feeling settled in his lower abdomen.

Suddenly something shifted that caused their hips to collide. Both boys gasped at the electric shocks coursing though their bodies. Arthur vaguely wondered how he even managed to get it up in his state of intoxication, but that thought was soon forgotten. Alfred growled as he pushed his hips forward. His eyes were ablaze as he looked into Arthur's emerald ones, then their worlds shrunk until there was nothing left but them.

In a fit of passion Alfred turned them around and slammed the Brit into the brick wall. Arthur got the air knocked out of him, but he barely seemed to mind as the hungry madman started to devour his mouth once again. Their hips met again as they both searched for friction. God! They were both going insane!

They were growling and biting at each other while dry humping like dogs in heat and Arthur… Arthur wouldn't want it any other way. He was in heaven, each touch set his body on fire. The feeling of Alfred's member through their pants made him shiver. 'Try denying that!' he thought as the quarterback let out a particularly low growl.

He could feel his toes curling as their breaths came out in desperate pants. However, getting air could wait, right now all he wanted was to go insane. Alfred seemed to share this thought. As Arthur opened his eyes and looked into Alfred's he saw something there, tucked away deep in the American's soul and it made his heart skip a beat. Within seconds they were coming. White flew before Arthur's eyes as his body burned from deep within his core.

He took in a couple of quivering breaths as he came down from possibly the biggest high in his short life. He smiled as he opened his eyes, set on thanking the bloke for giving him such a rush. However, the words caught in his throat as he saw the utterly broken look on the American's face. He looked like he was about to cry as his eyes once again searched Arthur's.

"Alfred…?" Arthur asked, guilt and worry filling his chest, replacing the wonderful feelings that had been there before.

"I…" Alfred said in a small voice as he hung his head in shame "I'm gonna throw up."

And with that he left Arthur standing there against that brick wall, without a jacket as reality hid them like a cold gush of evening air.

~O~O~O~

**Author's notes:**Lol I think I kind of let myself get carried away a bit. Anyway, right now I have a surprise for you guys. I've decided to write some extras at the end of certain chapters. I'll use these extras to give a little inside information on the characters that doesn't fit in the actual plot of the chapter. So here's the first extra:

~O~O~O~ Extra ~O~O~O~

The bar stayed quiet as both the punk and the quarterback left in a hurry. Matthew sighed as he shook his head in embarrassment. Why did his brother need to be such an idiot? He always wondered if Alfred even had the same genes as him. Apart from the obvious resemblance of appearance they were completely different. He turned to Francis who stood there with a look of disbelief on his face. Matthew felt his heart speed up a bit as he saw the flamboyant man look so out of character, but then he remembered what had caused this look.

"You were cruel Francis." Matthew said as he did his best to look like a parent lecturing his child. The Frenchman arched an elegant eyebrow at this as he suddenly seemed to remember that Matthew was still present. A normal person would be angry at this reaction, but Matthew was used to it. It didn't bother him anymore, or so he told himself.

"What are you implying, cher?" Francis asked while placing one hand on his hip. Matthew had discovered a long time ago that everything the Parisian did made him look like a supermodel. It made Matthew's insecurity act up, but he willed those feelings away. Now was not the time to be soft.

"You told Arthur we were dating, even though you know how he feels about you…" Matthew said, a lump formed in his throat at the last words. This earned him an other shocked expression from Francis.

" 'ow do you-" the Frenchman began, but Matthew cut him off in one of his rare confident moments.

"Oh come on, even a moron can see that, eh?" Matthew said as he secretly pictured Alfred in his mind. "Anyway," He continued while trying to get his nerves under control "It doesn't matter what you say, because… because I don't date players!"

At this statement Matthew could see panic flashing through Francis eyes, though he had to hand it to the man for the emotion didn't show on his face. Francis laughed a bit nervously.

"Matthieu~ you 'ave got it completely wrong!" He said as he moved towards Matthew. At this Matt walked a few steps backwards towards the door.

"No Francis!" He said, his voice shaking nervously despite his seemingly harsh tone "I've seen you looking at that picture that you always carry with you. The one with the blond haired woman. It's the same way you look at Arthur. You still love them, Francis, both of them…"

He tried his best to swallow, but his throat seemed uncomfortably constricted. He sighed as he gathered up the courage to say what he had wanted to say to the Frenchman all night.

"It… it might be selfish of me," He said as he looked right into Francis' eyes "but I don't share."

As soon as the words left his mouth Matthew knew that he had to get out of there before the Frenchman unleashed his charms on him. So he turned around and hurried out of the door as fast as his legs could carry him.


	7. Chapter 06

**Note!: This is the unbetad version of this chapter, the betad version will be out soon ^^.**

**Warning:**Homophobia! Language, Yaoi, Slash, boyxboy, UsxUk,

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, don't ask.

**Summary:** Alfred Jones, star quarterback of Hetalia Academy. The most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic, which is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim'. But Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred.

**Author's notes:**Well this is a chapter that is loosely based on one of my own experiences. It's been hard to write since it takes me back to a time when I wasn't really myself. A lot of what Alfred is going though emotionally is based on my own feelings and I just wanted to take this opportunity to say thank you to one of my best friends who lives in Canada for helping me through this, you know who you are.

Furthermore this might be a short chapter, but I felt that this is a turning point in Alfred's character that I just had to write about. In the end the Extra became longer that the chapter, but that's ok. I was waiting to write this new character into the plot for a while and I think it went well.

_Chapter 06:_

_In which strength has nothing to do with appearances._

~O~O~O~

He slammed the door behind him before running up the stairs. He didn't care how loud he was or who he would wake in such late hours. He just wanted safety, he wanted to crawl up in a hole and disappear. He ran into the bathroom and barely turned on the light before stumbling towards the sink.

He put both of his hands on either side of the sink and hung his head. He coughed a few times and made some chocking noises. He wanted to barf, but nothing came out. His stomach was filled with nervous anticipation, shame and emotions he was not willing to face just yet. It was an overwhelming sensation, to much for Alfred to handle. He just wanted it to go away, he wanted the world to go away and leave him be.

He tried again. The bile in his stomach rose up into his throat only to settle down again a few seconds later. His mouth felt strangely dry. He spat in the sink to get the flavour off his stomach's acid out of his mouth. As he used his hand to turn on the tap he noticed that he was shaking like a leaf.

Quickly he looked up into the mirror. His own eyes stared back at him in shock. He was a mess. His face pale with fright and gelled hair sticking up in all directions. He splashed some water in his face to clear his head.

Everything that had happened to him lately made him realise that he couldn't deny it anymore. All those stolen glances, all those urges, the fights. He had just been trying to keep this realisation as far away from himself as possible. Now he had to admit to himself that he was in fact attracted to men and it made him nervous.

How long had he been denying this? Six years? Maybe seven. All he knew was that when the first teenaged hormones began rushing through his body both genders suddenly became very interesting. It had been fun at first, when he was twelve and didn't know any better he had even kissed the Russian kid across the street. That was of course before he knew how society reacted to such things.

He was going to be shunned, wasn't he? He was going to be looked at with disgust. Suddenly there where all these unwanted labels and stereotypes that he was going to have to deal with. What would his folks think? What about his peers? His brother?

Just then he heard the door slowly open. The sound of all-stars squeaking on the bathroom tiles made him aware of his bother's presence. 'What is he? Psychic?' Alfred thought as he tried to casually ran a hand through his messed up hair. He took a few deep breaths before turning around with the best fake smile he could manage plastered on his face.

"Hey bro, how's it going?" He said as he cursed his voice for shaking.

Matt looked at him with a blank expression that told Alfred that he wasn't into such games right now. However Alfred had his pride, he wasn't going to let his twin know that anything was wrong with him. That… he was also not… normal.

"I saw you, you know. You and Arthur, I saw it all." Matthew said after a long moment of silence. This statement made Alfred's stomach feel like a new black hole had opened up where his gut used to be. He swallowed a bit as he tried to keep his cool. He couldn't look Matt in the eyes in fear that he might give something away.

"Alfred." His twin spoke softly as he put a hand on Alfred's trembling arm. Alfred's shoulders jumped up at the sudden contact. He inhaled sharply as he turned away from his brother to lean against the sink with one hand. His legs where still shaking despite his efforts to come to his senses. He heard Matt sigh in a mix of disappointment and annoyance before he spoke again.

"Alfred you're acting like a little child." He said with that parenting voice of his.

This made Alfred angry as he slammed his hand flat against the sink. "Then how am I supposed to be acting?" He nearly screamed "How am I supposed to be dealing with this shit? Tell me o wise one!"

Matthew merely raised one of his eyebrows at the mock reverence his twin had given him. "Did you seriously just call me wise one?" He said with a small laugh, probably in an attempt to lighten up the mood. However Alfred was way to upset to have small talks, he wanted answers and he wanted them now.

"By the way, why are you even helping me, huh? Aren't you supposed to be seriously pissed off at what I did to you?" Alfred said as a flood of guilt entered his system involuntarily. 'Now is not the time to show weakness to one's kin.' Alfred thought as he tried to picture himself like one of those roman warriors he had seen on TV some nights ago.

"I am…" Matthew said softly and for a moment he seemed lost in thought. "But," He continued "This is more important to me now than some sibling rivalry."

This made Alfred feel a bit better despite himself and he calmed down a bit. This was the longest conversation he and his twin had been able to have since Matt came out. It had been a shocking experience for Alfred. He had read somewhere that homosexuality was something genetic and suddenly also had to take his own sexuality in consideration as well as his brothers'. It had been a tough time for the both of them, one Alfred would rather not bring up at the moment, so he let it go.

"This is so fucked up." He said after a while "I've fucked up…"

"You have not fucked up Alfred." Matthew replied, his voice held a surprising amount of strength "You're going to get through this, eh? You're strong enough."

This did make Alfred laugh as he stood up straight again. "I don't think I am." He said as he frowned at his own pathetic situation. People always thought that he was the strong one of the twins, after all he was the one everyone noticed. Alfred F. Jones, star quarterback of Hetalia Academy, there where not many things that scared him. However this… this was something he could not deal with. 'Just because I can't deny it anymore doesn't mean I have to accept it.' And with that thought in mind he walked towards the door.

~O~O~O~ Extra ~O~O~O~

Matthew sighed as he closed the front door behind him. The cold evening wind greeted him once again like an old friend he hadn't seen in a while. It must have been around three in the morning, but Matthew didn't care. He just needed a breather, he needed those a lot lately. He slowly started walking down the path that led him towards a local park.

His talk with Alfred hadn't gone as well as he had hoped it would. Then again his brother was the unpredictable kind, Matthew didn't even know what he had expected to get out of the confrontation with his twin. Even though Al was a bastard, he hated seeing him get hurt. It was not in the quarterback's nature to be so self-conscious. Seeing him like this took Matthew back to less pleasant times.

Still he felt some sense of pride for sticking up to both Alfred and Francis in the same night. It had been nerve-wracking, but in the end Matthew came out stronger than he was before. Maybe he was finally letting his awkward teenage years behind.

Matthew was so lost in thought that he barely notice reaching the park. Only when he saw the gate of the local petting zoo did he know how far he had walked. Matthew realised that in all the years he had lived here he had never once been to the petting zoo. Sure he had walked past it maybe a thousand times, but when he came to live here with his father and his brother he had deemed himself too old for such things.

"Better late then never." Matthew mumbled to himself as he walked though the main gate. Most of the enclosures where closed or the animals fast asleep. 'Duh!' Matthew thought to himself 'It's three in the morning.'

He was about to turn around when a dim light caught his eye. 'That's weird…' Matt thought as he slowly walked towards it. The light started to shine brighter as he came closer to one of the small barns. There the top of the small barn door was opened and the light shone out in the darkness. Matthew could hear someone talking and chuckling softly, but Matthew couldn't make out the words. So he walked closer to the barn until the mumbling abruptly stopped.

"Wer ist da?" He heard a male voice say, it made Matthew stop in his tracks.

"I- I don't speak German." Matthew replied hesitantly as he tried to get a glimpse of the man he was talking too. Suddenly a head popped out from behind the closed lower part of the barn door. It made Matthew blink a few times before he believed what he saw. It was an unusual head, with blood red eyes and silver hair that shone in the dim barn light. Not really an unpleasant sight Matthew admitted to himself as he let his eyes rank over the head's nicely shaped bone structure.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" The head asked him in fluent English. Although Matthew could still hear some of the harshness of what he presumed was the head's mother language.

"I'm Matthew, a-and I could ask you the same thing." Matt replied while swallowing his nerves. Suddenly the head grew a body as the man stood up and rested his arms on the barn door. Matthew realised that the man wasn't a man at all, but a boy a few years older than himself. 'That white hair makes him look much older.' Matthew thought absentmindedly as he took in the rest of the boy's form.

The white haired guy was slender, but not in a bad way. With the way he dressed he reminded Matthew of those J-rock artists Kiku had showed to him once when he had mistaken Matt for Alfred. Of course with Alfred building up some muscles over the years that happened less and less. Matthew could not say if he was glad, at least people would talk to him when they thought he was Alfred.

"I am the most Awesome person you will ever meet in your entire life," The silver head said with a cocky smirk that made Matthew shiver a bit "and why I'm here… well… that's really none of your business." The flustered look on the guy's face when he said those last words made Matthew a bit curious, so he stepped a bit closer to look over the edge of the half barn door.

"Didn't I tell you to mind your own business!" The albino protested, but Matthew didn't listen. He was too fixated on what lay between the guy's feet.

"Chicks…" Matthew said slowly as a frown started to form on his face "Why on earth would you be standing in the middle of a nest of baby chicks in the middle of the night?"

This made the albino growl in annoyance before he answered "They need to be fed alright? They need food every couple of hours, because their Mutter abandoned them and- "

"So you're their mom now?" Matthew interrupted him laughing. This earned him a glare as the white haired guy slowly replied.

"Got a problem with that?"

Matthew looked down for a moment to avoid the look the albino was giving him. It was silent for a while as the silver head started to feed the chicks their formula with the gentle care one would see in a mother. 'I would've never pictured such a guy to be an animal lover.' Matthew thought as he smiled at the sight.

"Do you need some help with that?" He asked before thinking. This made the guy's red eyes shoot up again toward his face. Matthew was greeted with an other glare and this one seemed to look right through him. He squirmed a bit before the guy sighed.

"All right," He said "come in, but be careful that none of my chicks escape."

And so they sat there in silence for a few minutes feeding the chicks. 'It feels really peaceful here' Matthew thought as some of the chicks hopped onto his head and shoulders. This made the white haired guy laugh a bit.

"Seems like you fit right in here Birdie." He said as he lovingly pat some of the chicks on their heads. Matthew blushed a little at this statement, but smiled despite of himself. 'This guy's actually really nice.'

"When will you feed them again?" Matthew asked softly. He was not willing to go home yet and face his parents.

"In a few hours, I think I'm not going to get any sleep tonight anyway." The white haired guy said as he moved to lie on his back. Some of the chick immediately started to climb on his belly, making him laugh and say something like 'das kitzelt!'

"Can- Can I stay here with you until then… I don't really want to go home yet." Matthew said as he lay down next to the guy. He really didn't want to take no for an answer. He could feel the guy's red eyes burning on his cheek for a while and Matthew had to fight himself not to look back into those blood like eyes. However the silver head made no move to remove Matthew from the barn. So once again a peaceful silence filled the air making Matthew wish he could feel like this more often.

~O~O~O~

**Author's notes:** I have no experience in writing about Gilbert, so I hope I grasped his character well. At first I was not planning to let him feature in this fanfic, but then I saw this awesome comic that made me absolutely fall in love with his character (just take away the spaces): http:/ .com/ art/ Chibi-Prussia-Stamp-194201356

Anyway I hope you guys liked it, please review and give me your opinions ^^.

**German translations:**

Wer ist da? – Who's there?

Das kitzelt! – That tickles!


	8. Chapter 07

**Warning:**Homophobia! Language, Yaoi, Slash, boyxboy, UsxUk, mentions of past FrUk.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, don't ask.

**Summary:** Alfred Jones, star quarterback of Hetalia Academy. The most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic, which is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim'. But Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred.

**Author's notes:** Well this took longer than I thought. Now that the first story arch ended in chapter 06 I needed to plan the next arch. To be honest I never thought I would even finish the first arch with so much support from you guys, so I didn't even think about how things would go from there. I am glad to say though that I am continuing this story with a new and improved story arch. Hopefully the transition from the first arch to the second doesn't seem to unrealistic. I tried to keep the flow going, but I don't know if I succeeded. Anyway I wanted to thank all those who read and reviewed this story as well as my beta Cifer10 for hanging in there with me ^^.

_Chapter 07:_

_In which the past finds a way to repeat itself._

~O~O~O~

Rain fell down in big drops from the dark clouds hovering above him. Arthur was seated on the far left side of the field on some white painted bleachers. Today was Saturday, a day Arthur normally spent reading his favourite books and drinking some good old alcohol. It was the time of the week to leave the past behind and stay in his own little secure den that was otherwise known as a bed. 'So why am I here?' Arthur thought with a frown. This was certainly not how he ever pictured spending a Saturday afternoon, especially when it was pouring!

Arthur sighed in annoyance as he supported his head with the palm of his hand. Before him a group of muscular sweaty teenaged men tackled and wrestled each other in the muddy field. The display was mildly interesting, but did a good job to keep Arthur's brain from falling asleep with his eyes open. It wasn't so much that he hated sports, Arthur enjoyed his fair game of Football, but he had never managed to get into the American version of the game. His eyes scouted the field for a glimpse of blond hair and bright blue eyes.

He had switched his normal get up for a pair of jeans and a hoodie he found lying around somewhere in the back of his closet. He had bought it a long time ago, but he still secretly liked it because it had the symbols of the houses of Hogwarts printed on the front. He used it to shield his hair from the rain and to keep a low profile. His green hair would surely have been recognized and he really didn't want to get caught in such an embarrassing situation.

To the outside world the Brit might've looked like he could give a rat's ass about anything at the moment, but inside his head he was running in circles screaming. Almost three weeks had passed since he and that git had the best make-out session Arthur had in a really long time and it angered Arthur to realise he was missing it immensely. He didn't know why he wanted to do it again so badly, but he was afraid to question his emotions at this point. He just wanted things to be simple, no more doubt and insecurity about finding 'the one'. His believe in those kinds of fairytales had died the moment his past relationship ended. If he could even call it that.

Arthur bit his lip as the image of Francis holding that shy blond guy flashed to the foreground of his mind. 'No!' He internally screamed as he closed his eyes, wishing the image away 'This is in the past, it has nothing to do with me any more! It's time to move on.' Matthew, Alfred's brother, he was who the Frenchman wanted now and Arthur would be damned if the frog was going to drag him down any longer.

However right now Arthur had more urgent matters at hand. He was being avoided by the object of his, for the lack of a better word, fascination. Arthur supposed he had brought this upon himself one way or another, taunting a closeted gay homophobe was never a good thing. Still he had let himself get caught up in the flow. His emotions had taken the better off him and had spun out of control. He would've been better off if he left Alfred alone after that fateful night. This had all started out as a way to make Alfred back off and mind his own business. Arthur should've been happy, he should've felt like he had accomplished something. He had just single-handedly dismantled the worst bully in school.

And yet, he didn't want things to end like this. Alfred has slowly become more interesting to him. In the end he almost looked forward to every fight. The thrill, the acceleration, the way it made his heart beat strongly in his chest and made him feel so very alive. Arthur was addicted to it. He wanted more. More of Alfred, more of the emotions that where hiding behind the jock's mask of laughs and lies, more of something he could not quite put his finger on. Arthur felt himself slowly going insane as the days passed by without so much of a glance from the git.

Then a thought had struck him which formed into a brilliant and strange plan that went against everything Arthur previously thought he stood for. Still it would not let him go, the idea haunted him during his waking hours and even in his sleep he could not escape from it. In the end he could do nothing else but put it into action.

The thought of what he was about to do made Arthur's heart flutter with nervous anticipation. He ignored the need of his legs to move franticly up and down, instead he put his focus on finding the quarterback on the field. It would have been a lot easier if he had actually known the rules of the game, the identical uniforms did not do his search any good.

Then something caught his eye. A flash of tanned skin and blond hair. All the players where crouching near the ground, ready to go when told, but the signal never came. It was silent all around them, only the murmur of the other players and the sound of rain falling on the mossy grass filled the air. The boys anxiously looked at each other, probably wondering what was going on. However one of them was looking his way. Blue eyes met green. The shock was clearly visible on Alfred's face. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open just a bit. His hair was clinging to his forehead around the edges of the helmet he was wearing. Mud covered him like a second skin. In that moment Arthur felt like he had been stuck into a vacuum space as all of his breath left his body at once.

An angry frown formed on Alfred's face, his eyes glaring as if he saw Arthur's imminent death before him. 'Fuck, I've been discovered!' Arthur swallowed his initial fear and shame away and decided that the best course of action right now would be to simple glare back, so he did. This made Alfred turn his head away as he finally gave the other players the green light. The game continued once again, but this time there was something different. A tense feeling surrounded them like fog. Arthur did his best not to notice that now he was the one being watched. Every so often the quarterback would turn his head in the Brit's direction. It made Arthur want to crawl up into a hole in the ground and disappear.

He wondered if he was insane enough to go through with this, surly he was just digging his own grave even deeper. He was already discovered and Alfred did not look very pleased with his audience, but backing down would get him nowhere. He was tired of waiting, it was now or never.

Practice was slowly coming to an end and Arthur could feel his heart beat faster with every passing minute. Finally the players made their way to the locker rooms. However Alfred would have to stay behind and clean up, school rules. After the last players had walked off the field Arthur stood up from where he was sitting and slowly made his way toward the quarterback. The ground was soggy and muddy, it felt like it was trying to suck Arthur's shoes into the dark damp earth. He took his time, hesitating once in a while. Now it was just them, a few weeks ago Arthur would've simply stormed up to the git and speak his mind, but the recent distance made things just that much more awkward.

Before he knew it Arthur was standing next to the American who was collecting some bright orange cones. It was quiet for a while, the Brit really didn't know where to begin. In the end it was Alfred who spoke first.

"What do you want?" His voice was rough and full of spite.

Arthur shifted from one leg to an other as he nervously played with the hem of his hoodie, why was he here again?

"Umm…" Arthur said, trying not to sound too insecure "I just wanted to know… if you are alright?"

This earned him a snort as the quarterback turned to face him. "Why wouldn't I be alright?" His tone made it seem everything was fine, but the venomous look in his eyes told Arthur otherwise.

'This is going to be difficult.' Arthur scratched behind his neck as he tried not to break under that stare. This reaction was to be expected, with the way he had treated the boy that night three weeks ago. When intoxicated Arthur did things he would rather not remember when he woke up the next morning. This time though there was no regret, or shame for what he had done. Only anticipation and the feeling of wanting to continue.

"You're upset." It was a statement, not a question. Arthur didn't really know what else to say to him, because he knew Alfred would just avoid the subject until the end of time. Arthur needed to be the one who made the first step.

This earned him an other glare as Alfred put the cones on the ground. The Brit could see him tense and for a moment he thought the quarterback was going to hit him. However that punch never came, instead Alfred gave an annoyed growl and started pacing in front of Arthur. The Brit just looked at him, unsure of what action to take next. He hated to admit the fact that he could not calculate Alfred's actions, which left him feeling very unnerved. There was no knowing what the quarterback would do next.

"Look." Alfred abruptly turned towards him, shaking Arthur out of his thoughts "Just because you got some kind of response out of me that night doesn't mean shit!"

It took Arthur a few confused seconds to realise that the quarterback was referring too their sexual encounter behind the bar three weeks ago, though this did not seem to keep Alfred from ranting. While the quarterback continued his speech at a tremendous velocity the punk vaguely wondered if he was going to choke anytime soon.

"I mean, I'm a dude and a teenager. That means I have tons of hormones raging through my body at any moment of the day. So it doesn't take a lot to get me hot, a well placed hand, a few kisses, it's simple! Anybody could've done it. It has nothing to do with you really. So this!" He used his hand to gesture to himself and Arthur "This should've just gone back to normal."

When Alfred was done speaking he immediately picked up the cones again and walked towards the door, leaving Arthur standing on the field in a daze. By then Arthur realised that things where not going as planned and that he had to switch his battle strategy to plan B.

"So you're saying…" The Brit stated loudly trying his best to make his next words sound casual "that if, for example, Francis would have done those things to you… you would have had the exact same reaction?"

In the corner of his eye Arthur could see the jock freeze and the muscles of his shoulders tense nervously. "I take that as a no." Arthur could feel the corners of his lips involuntarily turn upwards.

"T-that has nothing to do with this…" Alfred said, obviously trying to sound certain of his cause, but the stutter did not go unnoticed by the punk.

"It has everything to do with this." Arthur stated more confidently than he felt. What if Alfred wouldn't take the bait? What if he suddenly decided to turn violent once again? Normally Arthur would be able to take him, but with the getup the quarterback was wearing the punk was not so sure. Still he continued.

"Aren't you tired of not knowing the answers to your questions? Doesn't it bother you?"

The question hung between them and for a moment or two neither of them moved. Then Arthur took the first few steps towards the quarterback, seeing those shoulders tense with the sound of every footstep. Alfred was like a rabbit at this moment and Arthur, Arthur was a fox. Slowly sneaking up on him, trying to catch him, seduce him.

"I could help you, you know… experiment…find answers. You don't have to be alone in this…" Arthur said softly when he was close enough for Alfred to hear him breathe. Their thick layers of clothing where slowly getting soaked and Arthur let his self control slip for a moment. He felt himself shiver, his body all too aware of the close proximity of Alfred's back to his chest. He delighted in the sight of short blond hairs clinging to the back of Alfred's neck from the rain. He didn't know why or how he had began to feel this way, but right now it didn't matter. Right now he had him exactly where he wanted and finally Arthur was the one who had the upper hand in this little game they where playing.

Slowly he leaned forward even more, until his lips nearly touched Alfred's earlobe. Arthur thought he might have heard the quarterback's breath hitch at that moment, but it could just as well have been a figment of his currently overactive imagination. He could barely calm his nerves as he whispered his last few words carefully.

"Eight PM tomorrow in the parking lot behind that bar, don't be late."

~O~O~O~ Extra ~O~O~O~

He was shivering as fingers ran softly up and down his arm. A familiar chuckle reached his ears, but it sounded sad this time, strained.

"Arthur…" A voice purring his name in the dim light room. He could see himself standing in frond of a man sitting on his couch. Only there was something wrong, why was Arthur's hair blond? And who was now running their bloody hand through it making him feel all hot and bothered?

"Arthur." The sound of his name was clearer this time and yet still barely a whisper. 'I must be dreaming' Arthur vaguely thought as he let his body be pulled into the man's lap. The man hugged him tightly and desperately, as if he was afraid to let go. Arthur could feel the roughness of an unshaved chin against the dip where his neck met his shoulder blades. He was now pressed completely against the other man, so close Arthur could feel every shaky breath he let out. This man was upset, Arthur could feel tears rolling down the man's cheek. Arthur felt the need to comfort this man, he wanted his pain to go away.

"Aren't you tired of not knowing the answers to your questions? Doesn't it bother you?" the man's voice had an ironic edge to it and the bitter laugh that followed made Arthur's blood run cold with agony. Why? Why was this man sad? Was there anything Arthur could do to make him happy again?

Arthur knew that in this moment he would do anything for the man. He could feel his own tears pricking against his eyelids as he buried his head in the other man's soft wavy locks. He inhaled the familiar and musky sent and let out a sigh. This felt so familiar, so safe. He wanted to be here forever, in this man's embrace.

"I could help you, you know…" The man continued, his accent becoming more clear with every word he uttered "experiment…find answers. You don't have to be alone in this…"

Arthur knew it the Frenchman who didn't want to be alone. He was just putting up a tough act, but Arthur could see right through it. Something had happened, something terrible. The Brit could feel it in his bones, there had to be something that caused this agony. However the more Arthur thought about it, the less clear his thoughts became. The reason was there, he could almost touch it.

Then the man pulled his head slightly back so that Arthur could see into his sad eyes that where so very, very blue. "Francis?" He heard himself choke out in confusion, right before the man's lips met his.

Arthur awoke with a gasp. For a few disoriented seconds he looked around, before he recognised that the bed he was in was his own. His breath came out in panicked pants as he flung his arm over his eyes in shame. He knew very well that it had not been a dream he had been having, but rather a memory from long ago he had tried to repress. Yet the current change of events had brought it to the surface once again and Arthur could not help the strange feeling of foreboding that took a hold of him as he drifted back into a restless slumber.

~O~O~O~

**Author's notes:**I have been waiting forever to put in some flashbacks from Arthur and Francis' past relationship. I know that some people might not like these since this story is classified as UsxUk (and vice versa), but I feel that Arthur's past with Francis is a really big drive in his present and future decisions. So yeah, there are going to be more flashbacks. I had fun writing Arthur as a less innocent character, he can be very selfish sometimes ^^.


	9. Chapter 08

**Warning: **Yaoi, Slash, boyxboy, UsxUk, fluff (for those who can't handle it).

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, don't ask.

**Summary:** Alfred Jones, star quarterback of Hetalia Academy. The most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic, which is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim'. But Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred.

**Author's notes:** It's alive! Yes I am still working on this, no it's not even close to over, yes I will try to update sooner next time. Man my past few months have been so packed full of stuff for Uni that I barely had time to work on this. I was doubting if I should continue, but I just love the story too much to just let it end like this. So please forgive the large gaps in time between updates. Well I hope that this chapter isn't too much out of character. I tried to write Alfred's nervousness as realistic as I possibly could, because I remember how much I was freaking out when I was dealing with my own bisexuality. So yeah I hope it doesn't bother you guys to see some of Arthur and Alfred's softer sides, not a lot of fighting in the near future I'm afraid. Also to those who where expecting to see a steamy porn scene, I'm sorry guys you'll have to wait a bit longer. Please excuse the lame subtitle this time, I couldn't find any inspiration.

_Chapter 08:_

_In which people come and stay._

~O~O~O~

'He's not coming.' This eerie little voice in the back of his mind kept repeating it, over and over again as time passed by in a vague blur. What had he been thinking, calling the boy out like that? Selfishly and maybe a little bit cocky, he had thought Alfred was under his thumb. Truth be told Arthur couldn't remember the last time he had felt so vulnerable. He leaned his head against the wall, fingers pressing into the bricks as he remembered. A dreadful feeling started to crawl up his spine as he sighed.

"Guess this is what they meant with things being to good to be true." Arthur whispered to no one in particular. Someone behind him coughed. The punk's eyes widened as he felt a surge of hope fly through him, making him a bit dizzy. He turned around as fast as he could, nearly tripping over his own feet. Before him stood a very awkward looking quarterback. Alfred shifted from one leg to the other and avoided the punks gaze completely, but Arthur didn't care.

"You came…" He said still half in disbelieve. The Brit could feel a nervous little grin tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. He felt relieved as those words left his mouth. Alfred was here, that meant he was interested. Arthur hadn't pulled that insane stunt for nothing.

"Umm… yes… I guess I did…" Alfred mumbled. There was a long awkward silence, neither of them really knew what to do now. Even Arthur who had been the one to initiate this… whatever this was, didn't really know how to proceed. Eventually the tension drained away and the American finally looked up into Arthur's eyes expectantly.

'Right,' Arthur thought 'this is probably even more nerve-wracking for him.' For just a split second Arthur felt a bit of sympathy for the jock, but it was pushed away accordingly. 'I'm going to have to take the lead this time.' Arthur cleared his suddenly parched throat and started walking.

"Come along." He said without looking back.

"Where are we going?" Arthur halted as the question reached his ears. The Brit turned around, his expression more composed than he felt on the inside.

"To my apartment of course, why? Would you rather do this at your place?" it was a sincere question. Arthur really didn't want to put more pressure on Alfred than necessary. If the American felt more at peace doing this in his own home then so be it.

The quarterback turned pale as Arthur mentioned his house and something that looked a lot like panic flashed through is eyes. Quickly he caught up with the punk. The rest of their walk was spend in an uncomfortable silence.

The key creaked in it's lock before Arthur flung the door open. He cleared the way for Alfred to step inside. The quarterback hesitatingly entered the apartment. Arthur closed the door behind him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alfred flinch as he locked it. He shrugged off his coat and Slytherin scarf and told Alfred that he should make himself comfortable. Arthur slipped into the kitchen and filled his kettle with water. It wasn't so much that he preferred to do things the old fashioned way, he just didn't have the money for a water boiler.

"Alfred do you want tea or coffee?" Arthur asked as he walked around the corner into the small space of the living room. He momentarily forgot what he had asked as he saw the quarterback standing at the far end of the room before Arthur's old picture frame. The Brit might have thought that the situation was ironic if he hadn't seen the pained look on Alfred's face in the reflection of the glass. A few seconds later Alfred caught his eye, embarrassment clear on his face as he turned away towards the sofa.

"Ah.. um… coffee…" The quarterback said softly. Arthur could see him shaking a bit. He realised then how much courage it must have taken for Alfred to come here. Just a few weeks ago he had been your average homophobic jock, walking around and making other peoples lives miserable. So much had happened since then, it felt like a lifetime ago.

"I'm not gay you know." Alfred said pulling Arthur out of his daze. In response the Brit just gave him a look that said 'uhuh, sure you aren't.' However Alfred didn't seem to notice it, he just stared at the table, lost in thoughts.

"I mean…I've been in love with girls before, so… I couldn't be… completely gay, could I?" A frown formed on his face as he gave Arthur a questioning look. 'Oh…' Arthur thought as he sat down on the couch and mentioned for Alfred to sit next to him. Alfred followed his orders awkwardly and for a minute they just sat there, both looking anywhere but each other.

"So…" Arthur coughed a bit to get the quarterback's attention "do you think you might be bi?"

Alfred gave him a searching look before sighing. "I… don't know what I am anymore…"

Just then the kettle started whistling and Arthur quickly excused himself, glad to escape the tense atmosphere. When he came back Alfred hadn't moved an inch. The Brit could feel his expectant stare burning on the back of his neck as he put down their mugs on the table. He sat back and took a sip from his earl grey tea. It gave him some comfort. Alfred followed his lead, silently drinking his coffee. Arthur could feel the awkward tension settling down between them again and decided to act before it could get any worse, if that was indeed possible.

"Well," he said in his most casual tone "I can't help you with the girl part of your problem, but I have some experience with guys, so…" He trailed of as Alfred started choking on his coffee. 'My god,' Arthur thought as he patted the American on his back, while said person was coughing his lungs out 'He is even worse than I was the first time I did something like this.'

"Umm…" Alfred replied when he could breathe again "I don't think I'm quite ready for that yet." Arthur took one look at the quarterbacks flushed face to know what he was implying.

"You idiot! What do you take me for? I was talking about snogging!" When Alfred looked at him questioningly he merely sighed "Kissing, you know, when your press your mouth onto an other human beings lips?"

Arthur watched as realisation dawned on Alfred's face. He had to give the guy some credit. Surely being frequently tackled was not good for one's intellectual capacity.

"Ohh…" Alfred did a perfect imitation of a goldfish "you mean making-out… Didn't we already do that though?

Arthur shrugged "Practice makes perfect, or would you rather want me to ravish you?" At this Alfred went a bright shade of red that was strangely adorable to Arthur. He couldn't help himself, he leaned in closer. Their lips touched softly, Arthur could feel his skin prickling and his hairs stand upright. He did not deepen the kiss though, he wanted Alfred to initiate any further progress. Otherwise it would be too easy for the quarterback to deny everything later on.

When nothing happened Arthur pulled back just slightly and looked into Alfred's eyes for what felt like the first time that day. They where hazy. Arthur could feel Alfred's hand shaking a bit as the jock cupped his face. His eyes followed Alfred's tongue as it traveled over his lower lip and Arthur began to wonder why that made his insides turn upside down. Alfred hesitated a bit before he leaned back in. An other soft kiss was shared between them, longer this time. It was different from the frenzied snogging they had done before. They where more aware of each other. It was unnerving to say the least.

After a few minutes Arthur pulled away. "And?" He said, trying not to sound too hopeful "Was it good?" Alfred just gave a grunt as he leaned his forehead on the Brit's neck.

His voice was a deep muffled sound, making Arthur shiver when he felt the American's breath on his neck. "I want to touch you."

Bold but trembling fingers reached underneath the hem of his shirt. Alfred's hands where slightly cold against his skin. Before Arthur could respond they where already exploring. Drawing patterns across his chest, dragging nails down his sides, sliding thumbs over his nipples. It seemed that Alfred had lost his blushing virgin demeanour and had turned back into the quarterback Arthur knew so well. That knowledge made pleasure crawl up his spine, but what confuse the Brit the most was the hot coiling feeling in his stomach combined with the nervous fluttering sensation in his chest. He forgot how to breathe as Alfred gave him one soft kiss in the dip where Arthur's neck met his shoulder.

A phone rang, Arthur vaguely recognised it as the Star Wars theme. Beside him Alfred growled. He reached into the pocked of his jacked and pulled it out. "What?" he snapped as he answered the call. Arthur watched as Alfred's annoyed look turned into one of shock and then horror. The quarterback swallowed nervously as he answered "No… um… could you tell them that I'm staying over at an…ah… friends house…?" This perked Arthur's interest as he gave the quarterback a questioning look, Alfred promptly ignored him. "Yes that's right… ok… see you Mattie."

He put the phone away in silence. "I promise I won't do anything nasty while you're asleep." Alfred said while giving Arthur a pleading look. Who knew the quarterback had such puppy dog eyes? Arthur sighed, knowing that he was getting himself in too deep. He nodded. As Alfred's whole being light up in front of him, Arthur found himself thinking that he wouldn't mind it if the quarterback molested him in his sleep, just this once.

~O~O~O~

**Author's notes: **Yeah so no extra this time, I was planning to do one, but then I decided that it would be better suited for the next chapter. Anyway thank you so much for reading this and hopefully until the next chapter ^^.


	10. Chapter 09

**Edit: I fixed that one german sentence ^^. Thanks to those who pointed it out to me. (Really Dutch and German might seem like the same language, but are so very different from each other -.-' ).  
**

**Warning: **Homophobia! Language, Yaoi, Slash, boyxboy, UsxUk, mentions of past FrUk.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, don't ask.

**Summary:** Alfred Jones, star quarterback of Hetalia Academy. The most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic, which is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim'. But Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred.

**Author's notes: **This really took way longer than I had expected. My university has become really demanding, besides that I've been trying to work on some original short story ideas, because I might want to apply to a screenwriting/creative writing MA in the future. Anyway, I've been working hard to get this done, I'm not sure about what my opinion is on the end result though. Still, I hope you'll enjoy it.

_Chapter 09:_

_Why be happy, when you could be normal?_

~O~O~O~

It was funny, Alfred thought, how much he had changed in such a short period of time. Lying here in the darkness of the night, he felt his heart skip beat at the sight of the other man's lean back. His eyes traced it's silhouette and he felt a twinge of fear. He realized that he wouldn't have been here if his parents weren't home and that mere knowledge sickened him. He couldn't sleep, how could he? When so many things where racing though his head. He might still be able to hide this from them, pretend he was what they had always raised him to be: an all American boy. He wanted to be someone they could have been proud of, but it never seemed to be good enough and now he was sure it was never going to happen. He had seen his stepmom's reaction to Mattie coming out, it hadn't been a pretty picture. Her shrill voice echoed inside his mind, so vivid he could almost hear it. _"Why be happy, when you can be normal?"_

'Is that what being normal is?' Alfred wondered 'Sacrificing your happiness for the sake of keeping up appearances? Do I really want that?'

He was going to have to give up one or the other in the end. That thought scared him. He shifted a little closer to Arthur, close enough that he could feel the other man's body heat, it calmed him down. As he closed his eyes he wondered how long this could last.

~O~O~O~

The chicks had grown almost twice their original size over the last few weeks. A small sense of pride filled Matthew as he looked at them flapping around. Their feathers has turned as white as the man who was fostering them. Matthew grinned as some of the chicks flew up towards Gilbert's head and tried to nestle on top of it, but they where too big for that now. The Prussian waves his hand gently to get them of him as he walked towards Matthew. He was a bit out of breath as he joined the Canadian in leaning against the fence.

"Sieg!" Gilbert said with a smirk as he shook his fist half-heartedly at the chickens.

For the last hour and a half they had been trying to get the chicks into the pen that Gilbert's brother Ludwig had been kind enough to built for them. Matthew had lasted all together thirty minutes before he had to catch his breath, but Gilbert was like a pro. At first the Prussian had just told Matthew it was because he is a great and awesome person. 'The Awesomest, with a capital A.' he had said to him, but then Matthew had given him the look and Gilbert had reluctantly told the truth. The Beilschmidt brothers had lived with their grandparents on a farm before coming to America.

"What do you think Birdie? Are our children alright?" the albino's smirk turned playful.

Matthew blushed "Our children?"

"Well you helped me raise them, didn't you?" Gilbert said as he gestured at the chicks, then frowned "Guess that makes you their Vati… Ich bin mir nicht ganz sicher, wie ich davon halten soll…"

Matthew felt his heart skip a beat as he looked at the man beside him. White hair illuminated by the streetlights, a faraway look on Gilbert's face. It made a nice warmth spread through the Canadian's chest. It wasn't love, Matthew knew it was way to early for that. 'But I so could fall for this guy.' He thought to himself as he looked at the Prussian out of the corner of this eye. He shifted a bit, suddenly aware of the exact distance between them. There was a tense moment where Matthew thought he was crazy for even trying, but then he opened his mouth and the words came rolling out, just like that.

"So um, do you…" He couldn't hide the nervous laughter that bubbled up from deep inside his chest.

Gilbert frowned a bit as he turned towards him "Do I what?"

'God this is so uncomfortable…' Matthew thought as he felt that unsettling gaze settle on his face. "Do you… have a… girlfriend?" An other nervous laughter made Matthew feel like he had been stared at enough and he looked down, letting his blond hair fall over his face. He could feel his cheeks rapidly heating up as an awkward moment passed.

Gilbert coughed a bit as he kicked some of the dirt with the heel of his feet "Well no… I mean not yet."

The Canadian felt his heart beat in his throat and was just about to ask if there was anyone the Albino was particularly interested in when Gilbert continued.

"There's this girl I think is kind of awesome… when we where younger she always tried to beat me up." The white haired man let out a amused laugh "I really liked her like that, but now... I don't know."

Matthew felt his hope sink, like one of the rocks he used to throw into lake Ontario when he was a little kid. He looked up towards the Prussian and saw the man's equally pained look. Matthew knew that there was something Gilbert wasn't telling him, but decided in that moment he would keep his mouth shut. Asking would probably just cause him more pain. Francis had taught him that much. The thought of the Parisian made Matthew feel somewhat bitter. Though a few weeks had passed, the wound left by the Frenchman was still too fresh.

"How about you?" Gilbert asked suddenly, not looking the Canadian in the eye.

"Sorry?" Matthew asked, shaking his head to clear it.

Gilbert crossed his arms and gave him a quick glance. "Do you have…someone?"

The careful way the albino said those words made Matthew a bit suspicious, did Gilbert know? For a moment Matthew felt a familiar sort of panic, then he forced himself to calm down. 'If Gilbert was a bigot, he would have already said something.' He reasoned and then sighed. Could he get out of this?

"Well…" Matthew said, his voice shaking a bit "I had… someone…not so long ago…but it didn't work."

After having said that Matthew mentally gave himself a job-well-done speech and tried not to notice the way Gilbert was eyeing him now. After a few awkward moments Gilbert gave a loud snort.

"The guy must have been insane to let someone like you go." Gilbert smiled at him when he said this "I mean if I was bend that way, I would have surely kept you all to myself."

Upon seeing the Canadian's shocked expression Gilbert have him an one-armed hug.

"Well you can't help it that you're straight." Matthew replied, still a bit baffled. This just earned him an other laugh.

The clock on the other side of the petting zoo told them that it was nearly ten passed four in the morning. Inside their pens the chicks had settled down for the night. And as they walked back though the abandoned streets, Matthew felt happier then he had been in quite some time.

~O~O~O~

Arthur's doorbell didn't work, Alfred finally concluded after listening to the annoying banging for half a minute. He opened his eyes a bit, the sunlight gave him a headache. He groaned, his body felt heavy. 'Must have overworked myself during Football practice.' Alfred thought when he felt the familiar pain in his muscles. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and stumbled towards the door. He fumbled a bit with the lock, before he swung the door open with the intention to politely tell the person on the other side to fuck off!

It was the Frenchman. He looked tired, his eyes where red and puffy. Alfred stood frozen in the doorway as realisation dawned on Bonnevoy's face. This was followed by an awkward silence.

"Are you staying away from my brother?" Alfred asked eventually, his voice gentler than he had intended.

The Frenchman laughed bitterly at this, while rubbing his forehead. "Oh don't worry, mon ami, Matthieu can stand up for himself." A wry smile pulled at the Frenchman's lips "Now would you be so kind as to fetch me l'Angleterre?"

As Alfred turned towards the bedroom he shot one nervous look behind him to see the Frenchman leaning against the door like he owned the place. 'Why is he here anyway?' that thought made something turn in Alfred's guts.

When he entered the bedroom Arthur was sprawled across the bed, sheets tangled at his feet. His lean back now exposed in the morning light. It revealed an old long scar across his spine. Alfred swallowed as he leaned in to take a closer look at it. Alfred wondered if the scar was a remainder of the accident. Before he could help himself he found his fingers tracing the hardened skin. Arthur stirred, causing Alfred to pull his hand back fast, as if he had been burned.

"What is it?" Arthur whispered in a sleepy voice.

"Um…" Alfred's shot one look towards the door "your Frenchman's here?"

Arthur's groan shouldn't have made Alfred feel so pleased, but it did.

"That is so very not good." Arthur mumbled as he got up and tried to manoeuvre towards the door without running into things. He heard the Brit curse under his breath as he bumped his knees on the edge of the couch. The Frenchman had a small, thin smile on his lips as the punk approached him. Alfred felt a bit jealous at the fact that the French bastard got to see Arthur half naked as well. For a few moments they barely seemed to notice the American as they greeted each other with a familiarity that seemed to have grown through years of friendship. When Arthur finally turned towards Alfred it was to say that he had to gather his stuff, because surely the American had to go home soon. It made Alfred's blood boil.

He reluctantly got dressed as his hands shook with nerves. 'Seriously, what is that guy doing here?' Alfred thought. He tried to listen in on their conversation, but Bonnevoy was talking too softly for him to follow and he could barely make out actual words in Arthur's sleepy slurs.

After that the goodbye shared between him and Arthur was brief, if you could have even called it that. Just a quick nod of the head and the promise that they would see each other again soon.

The door closed behind him. As he stood in that hallway something cold settled in his stomach, spreading chills though the marrows of his bones all the way across his being. He had just been kicked out of the apartment of the guy he had kind of spend the night with, because Arthur's ex-boyfriend showed up. He looked out of the small window on the edge of the staircase. The sky seemed bleak outside.

~O~O~O~Translation~O~O~O

Sieg! – Victory!

Ich bin mir nicht ganz sicher, wie ich davon halten soll.- I'm not quite sure how I feel about this.

Mon ami- My friend.

l'Angleterre- England.

~O~O~O~

**Author's notes:** And that was chapter nine! This is going quite well regarding my seemingly constant sleep depravity. I hope you had fun reading this, there's not really all that much to say about this chapter really. I'm going to do my best on making the next chapter a bit more interesting.


	11. Chapter 10

**Warning: **Homophobia! Language, UsxUk, mentions of past FrUk, fluff.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, don't ask.

**Author's notes:** Sorry for the great absence, I had a major writers block on this story. I really didn't know where to go from here, I also kind of fell out of the fandom for a while. I'm back now, though I still won't be updating regularly because I'm going on exchange very soon. Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter ^^.

_Chapter 10:_

_In which relationships are mended._

~O~O~O~

He stands in the doorway, sighing as he runs one hand through those golden strands. A nervous tick, one that Arthur had long forgotten. Francis keeps his hand buried in his hair, long locks tumble through the gaps between his fingers like sand. It saddens Arthur that he had once been so familiar with the way his friend moves, the Frenchman's body language seems so foreign to him now. Arthur then remembers an other body, shifting against his back in the depths of the night. Warmth spreads through his fingers at the thought as he fumbles with the lock on his door.

"Arthur, what where you thinking?"

His back's turned towards Francis when the man first speaks and thus he cannot see the expression on the Frenchman's face. Though he can hear the waver in those words. When he finally brings up the courage to look Francis in the eyes, he can feel the age difference between them like a weight pressing on his shoulders. It annoys him.

"I can do whatever I want." He states defiantly.

This earns him a sad little smile. He suddenly notices how defeated Francis looks. The man normally takes such good care of himself. 'Maybe a bit too good.' Arthur thinks to himself. Now Francis looks like he hasn't shaven in at least two days, bags underline his eyes, his clothing looks like it was just thrown on. It makes Arthur hesitate a bit.

"Arthur…" Francis' voice is soft but strict, like a parent. A tone the Englishman would have never thought he would hear from the frog of all people "Arthur, Arthur… are you messing around with L'Amérique?"

Francis has this weird habit of giving people nicknames according to their country of origin. It was something that had started very early in their childhood. Arthur never understood why Francis did this, but after a while it started to grow on him. Just an other one of those quirks that always pulled at his heartstrings. Francis takes Arthur's silence as an affirmation and frowns.

"Oh, mon Dieu Aides-nous." He mumbles as he rubs his eyes, like he is wishing the world would go away. "Je m'excuse, for taking advantage of you back then. I probably set the wrong example."

Francis didn't dare to look him in the eye, opting instead to seat himself quietly on the couch. Arthur takes a few steps back, leans against one of the pillows and sighs.

"You know, I should actually thank you. If it wasn't for you I would have never figured out who I truly am. Before you, I just kept denying a significant part of myself. I don't think I would be who I am today if it wasn't for you."

Francis' mouth twitched a bit at this "Non you would still be filthy rich and live in a mansion with servants at your beck and call."

Francis' half smile turned into a full blown smirk as Arthur slid down to poke him in his sides. "You know that's not what I meant!" The Brit said as he bumped his shoulder against the frog "I mean that if it weren't for you I wouldn't have been this…happy with myself."

Francis quirked an eyebrow, making Arthur's scowl fall back in place "You didn't just come by to apologise, did you frog?"

"Ah non." the Frenchman replied as he fished a piece of paper out of his pocked "Angleterre, are you still looking for a job?"

~O~O~O~

It was getting dark by the time Alfred reached the house. He had taken a bit of a detour on his way home… alright a lot of detours, but he just didn't wanted to be confronted by Mattie and his endless questions. Alfred had managed to avoid him all day at school. He could hear him now: 'So you spend the night at a 'friend's house'?' 'How was it?' 'Was he/she a good kisser?' Alfred blushed a bit as he realised that yes, according to his past experiences, Arthur was a good kisser. Alfred was fully prepared for his lil bro's cross-hearing when he opened the door. What he didn't expect was total silence and the smell of meatloaf cooking in the oven.

'Oh god.' Alfred mentally groaned as he walked into the dining area to see his dad, stepmom and a very quiet, hunched-over version of his brother. His parents had their patented fake toothpaste-commercial-smiles on, which generally meant that his brother and mommy dear had a fallout.

"Sit down sweetie." His stepmom said as she moved to get the meatloaf out of the oven. Alfred reluctantly took his place at the table. His brother flashed him a quick smile, but Alfred knew that look in his eyes.

"So how was practice this Saturday son?" His father said as he leaned his big muscled arms on the table.

Alfred was busy staring a hole into the ebony wood as he replied "Great! I mean definitely uneventful, but yeah, really good."

'No that was totally not wierd at all.' Alfred's inner voice remarked, it sounded suspiciously like a certain Brit. Only Mattie seemed to notice Alfred's miniature panic attack though, his father was already distracted by the food on his plate.

"Can I be excused?" He asked as he put his fork down after a few bites.

"You need to eat more hon, how else are you going to get yourself a nice girlfriend?" their stepmom's comment was supposed to sound casual, but to Alfred it felt like she had just activated a tripwire. His brother's gaze could have melted the icecaps single-handedly, but just as Mattie was about to snap their father loudly announced that he was up for seconds. Alfred tried to catch his bother's eyes, but Matt ignored him.

Later that evening Alfred snuck into his brother's bedroom and let Mattie vent his anger on him. Afterwards they leaned against each other on the beanbag in front of the Matt's TV.

"You know…" Matt said "I figured out you liked boys when we started watching those re-runs from Saved by the Bell. You had the biggest crush on Zack."

"Did not!" Alfred sputtered as he threw a pillow at Mattie. This only made his brother laugh.

"Did too! You used to growl every time he and Kelly got back together!" The pillow was returned to Alfred with full force. Who then grabbed his brother and proceeded to tickle him to death.

"Ok! Ok! Enough!" Mattie gasped "I still need to be able to breathe, eh? … Alfred?"

"I hate this." Alfred replied, a dark look came over him "That they're still trying to be the perfect family." He rolled of Mattie to lie down next to him.

Matt sighed and they continued to stare at the ceiling for a while. Fluorescent stickers of the planets and stars glowed dimly above them, a reminder of the time when he and Matt still shared this bedroom.

"They're just in denial, Alfred. Like you where. They had a certain view of you, dreams and expectations and suddenly you won't be able to fulfil those anymore. That's what scares them, they don't know what to expect from you."

"It shouldn't be any of their business." Alfred grumbled as he felt that familiar pit in his stomach.

"If only things where that simple."

Matthew slowly moved to hug Alfred, who let himself get pulled into it. For the first time in a while Alfred felt like there was something watching over them, even if it where just his plastic stars.

~O~O~O~

**Author's notes:** After all this drama I was in the mood for something else, so I thought this was perfect timing for some brotherly bonding.

**French:**

L'Amérique - America

Oh, mon Dieu Aides-nous. - Oh, my God aid us. (/ help us)

Je m'excuse - I'm sorry/ I apologise

Angleterre - England


	12. Chapter 11

**Thanks to rubbishartist for correcting my Spanish in this chapter ^^ (google translate failed once again -.-' )  
**

**Warning: **Language, mentions of past FrUk, mentions of heterosexual relationships.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, don't ask.

**Author's notes:** Quite a short chapter this time, I split this chapter and the next in two parts. It felt better this way. Hopefully it won't spoil your fun ^^. Enjoy.

_Chapter 11:_

_In which memories do not rest._

~O~O~O~

The party was excruciatingly boring. He was standing on the terrace overlooking the garden. It was neatly kept, it's centre-piece being a pompous fountain surrounded by borders of 'wildflowers' and one stone bench which looked very inviting. His back hurt from standing too long, but he knew his parents hated it when he slouched. He was about to make his way towards the bench when he heard his name being called. He turned to see a blond haired girl running towards him.

"My god, what have you done to your hair?"

"I cut it." Jean stated with a defiant smile. She held a glass of bubbling champagne between her neatly polished fingers. "It's my own little act of rebellion. I would have dyed it too, had my father not found out."

Arthur shook his head and returned her smile wholeheartedly. Jean d'Arc was a lot of things, but boring was not one of them. He offered her an arm as they walked towards fountain in the middle of the garden.

"What colour?" Arthur asked as they sat down on the stone bench. He watched as Jean leaned closer, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"I was thinking… green."

This made Arthur's eyebrows rise up into his hairline. "Green?" Arthur repeated, trying not to laugh "Why in god's name would someone ever- "

Words left him as he took in the man leaning against the glass doors of the terrace. He had wavy blond hair that was just a bit too long to be considered decent and piercing blue eyes that glared at Arthur intensely. His neatly tailored suit was fashionably decked out with a silk scarf, which vaguely reminded Arthur of the one Jean had worn on her fifteenth birthday.

"Who's that?" He asked her as the man kept giving them weird looks. Her short blond hair swayed as she turned. Jean visible froze as she saw the man. He was now walking along the terrace, one hand in his pocked. His eyes softened a bit as he saw her looking. Arthur barely caught a glimpse of Jean's smile, before she turned towards Arthur and entwined his hand in hers. The engagement ring Arthur's parents had bought for her pricking in his skin.

"That's Francis, he's just… an old acquaintance of mine."

Arthur didn't believe her, there was no way a mere acquaintance could look at her like that. The man's glare made Arthur suppress a shiver. As their small talk continued, Jean tried in vain to hide the glances she shot at the handsome stranger. Not that Arthur could call her out on it, he was doing the same thing.

Arthur awoke gasping for air, cold sweat covered his body. For a moment he thought the thumping noise was his heart beating in his ears, until he heard Francis calling his name through the door. He dressed in a hurry, brushing his teeth while he pulled on his school jacket. He forgot all about breakfast or combing his hair.

His memories haunted him all the way out of the door and into Francis' car. Arthur was silent for the entire ride as the Frenchmen told him about the job opportunity. Apparently the bar Francis had taken Arthur and Matthew to doubled as a restaurant. Francis had a part-time job there as a cook, but they where short on staff.

Arthur had been looking for a job for quite some time. He was still underage which meant his parents paid for his rent. Getting some form of income would help Arthur cut loose the last few ties to his past. Jean's face flashed before his inner eye and Arthur had to regulate his breathing to keep himself from hyperventilating. He closed his eyes and swallowed nervously.

"Are you alright, mon cher?" The Frenchman was frowning at him as he shut off the engine.

Arthur looked at him for a long time and then nodded before silently getting out of the car. His legs wobbled a bit as he stepped into the pub. The place seemed bigger in the morning, now that it was just him, Francis and the bartender Arthur recognised form a few weeks back. 'Antonio' the barman's nametag said. The Spaniard was cleaning glasses with a cloth. He did not even look up when he spoke.

"So you have previous experience waiting tables?"

This shook Arthur out of his waking-dream state. He looked at Francis who was trying to give him thumbs up without the bartender noticing. Antonio looked up from what he was doing at Arthur's silence.

This made the Brit clear his throat and mumble a polite "No sir."

The Spanish barman got a distinct smile of his face. One that said 'I saw you when you where drunk and I'm going to be an arsehole about it'. He was giving Arthur a long and inspecting look. Arthur bit his tongue not to snap at the Spanish bastard. He knew that look, knew that his potential new boss was already judging him. Arthur glared back at him defiantly. Their silent staring went on for a minute or so, until the barman suddenly clapped his hands together.

"Bueno voy a contratarlo. Next Saturday 11 AM sharp. No traigas a tu novio." The Spaniard tossed Arthur a uniform, then turned towards Francis and leaned in close "If he messes up it'll come out of your pay check."

"Mais non! Antonio mon ami, you can't do this." Francis squeaked.

Arthur studied his uniform as the Frenchman followed the Spaniard into the back of the pub, their voices slowly fading. A small smile formed on his face. Finally he would be able to become truly independent and maybe, just maybe the ghosts of his past would leave him alone for a while.

~O~O~O~

**Author's notes: **Finally I was able to introduce some of the new characters into this story, I've been waiting to introduce them for so long. More new characters are to follow ^^.

~O~O~O~ Translations ~O~O~O~

**Spanish:**

Bueno voy a contratarlo- Well I'll hire him

No traigas a tu novio - Do not bring your boyfriend

**French:**

Mais non! – (roughly translated) But no!

Mon ami- My friend

Mon cher – My love/ darling/ dear


	13. Chapter 12

**Warning: **Cursing! Character death!, Yaoi, Slash, boyxboy, UsxUk, mentions of past FrUk and FrancexJean.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, don't ask.

**Summary:** Alfred Jones, star quarterback of Hetalia Academy. The most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic, which is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim'. But Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred.

**Author's notes:** Just to clarify: Francis did not rape Arthur, I'm sorry if I made it seem that way. That was not my intention. With that out of the way, I'm pleased to say that I've finally finished this new chapter. It's been three months since the last chapter so I was kind of out of it. I've been trying to improve my writing style. Hopefully it's not too distracting, but the again maybe you won't notice any difference at al. Anyway enjoy.

_Chapter 12:_

_In which a car crashes._

~O~O~O~

The first time Alfred saw him, Arthur was up till his teeth in bandages. It was back when Alfred was still in middle school. He was hanging out with a couple of guys on the benches near Hetalia High. He thought those guys where so cool back then, because they where older and stronger than him. He laughed with them as they took turns in scaring passing pedestrians. It was his turn and Alfred felt pumped, ready to prove himself.

"Oh man look at that!"

"Dude that's gnarly!"

Some of the boys shouted as Arthur came into view. Gauze peeking out from underneath his shirt. There was a limp in his walk and his face was cut in several places. His tousled dirty blond hair guarding his eyes.

"Well go on then Jones!"

There was a rough shove in his back and Alfred stumbled onto the sidewalk. Arthur's eyes flew up, settling on Alfred with a glare. 'Just try it, I dare you.' Those green irises seemed to say. It had made Alfred go weak in the knees.

A few years later he gets that same glare as Arthur sees him leaning against the Brit's locker. He looks tired Alfred realises. The skin underneath Arthur's eyes is just a bit darker, a bit more caved in than the day before.

"You know this could be considered stalking?" At least Arthur's voice had not lost it's bite. This makes Alfred smirk.

"Not when you started it." He says, kindly reminding the Brit of last Saturday's Football practice. This earns him a huff. Arthur crowds into his personal space. Alfred tries to ignore the way that makes his skin tingle.

"Could you move please! I actually have other things to do today." The Brit spits out. Arthur starts to push at his side, but Alfred knows he has enough bulk to stand his ground. He didn't wait till four just so that Arthur could shove him out of the way like he was nothing. The punk slams his hands on the locker next to Alfred's head. The sound echo's through the abandoned hallways. Those green eyes are spitting flames, but Arthur's mouth surprisingly stays shut. Alfred takes a deep breath and steels himself before uttering:

"Other things to do? Like your Frenchman?" His voice comes out softer than he wished, but the widening of Arthur's eyes is enough indication that the message came through.

One minute he's pressed up against the lockers, the other he watches Arthur stalk away. 'Shit!' Alfred thinks as he starts his pursuit, following Arthur out of the door.

"So what? You make out with me and then you ditch me to get back with your ex-boyfriend?" Alfred's voice is desperate as Arthur walks past the benches where Alfred first saw him.

"You. Don't. Know. Fuck. Jones!" The Brit screams just as he's about the cross the road, but Alfred doesn't hear him. The sound of tires screeching on asphalt overwhelms his senses. There's a moment of complete clarity that reminds Alfred of being on the field seconds before a game starts, when his instincts take over and he doesn't have to think. He just grabs Arthur by his arms and pulls him off the street. The car passes by, honking it's horn loudly. That's when a panicked feeling presses it's way into his chest, making it hard to breathe. They're both shaking as Alfred hauls them over to the benches.

"Holy Shit man, don't do that to me!" Alfred says, hand clenching at his heart.

There is no response. He looks over at Arthur. The Brit is hyperventilating and his eyes look far away. It scares Alfred more than anything.

"Arthur!" His voice is a bit high-pitched as he violently shakes the Brit's left shoulder.

When Arthur turns to look at him it's like he has seen a ghost. He's twitching with nerves and no matter what Alfred does he can't get him to breathe normally. Hugging him seems like the best thing to do. Arthur jumps a little as Alfred folds his arms around him. It must look weird, a green haired punker kid being hugged by a jock. Alfred doesn't give one flying fuck about what other people think at that moment. It's hard to tell how much time went by, but the sky is visibly darker by the time Arthur stops shaking and even then Alfred does not let go.

"You know, I was in a car crash once…" The Brit's voice is scratchy and tired as he leans his head against Alfred's neck. Alfred doesn't know what to do with that kind of information, but his silence is apparently enough indication for Arthur to go on.

"Me and a friend, we where taking a cab home. We had gone to a party that night. Our parents didn't know, so we couldn't just call them. We had a curfew, so we told the cabbie to hurry up and the idiot decides to ignore a red light-" Arthur's voice hitches a bit "My friend, she… died in the hospital that night. Severe internal bleeding."

Arthur feels frail inside his arms. Alfred hugs him even closer, bringing one hand up to stroke through that spinach colour hair.

"Francis… god he was so in love with her and when he heard the news, he just crumbled right before my eyes. He was in desperate need of support, any type of support and I had a crush on him for years… so I just-"

Alfred can feel the wetness through the collar of his shirt. He lets out a shaky breath and turns his head to softly kiss the tip of Arthur's ear.

"What was her name?" His voice is soft, barely a whisper.

"Jean."

~O~O~O~

**Author's notes:** So yes, that was quite an emotional chapter for me to write. I hope you guys liked it. Thanks for reading.


End file.
